


Ache For You

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Cheating, Conversations, Drunken Kissing, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Kissing, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Misery, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:43:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2788757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kian wasn't supposed to want Mark, but when Mark turned those beautiful eyes on him it was hard to remember why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Kian didn’t know how to deal with what he was feeling; and he should have had a lot of practice, having felt that way for the past four years. Mark was his best mate, for fuck’s sakes, and you couldn’t feel that way about your best mate. You were supposed to feel one of those warm happy little glows, or amazing comforts from being with someone you know so well that they’d almost become a part of you. You weren’t supposed to want any more; weren’t supposed to want them in any other way. Your best mate was a confidant, not a shagging partner.

But somehow, when Mark fixed that amazing oceanic gaze on him, he couldn’t seem to remember that, couldn’t seem to remember that the last thing he should be wanting was to kiss the younger boy into next week. Couldn’t seem to remember that Mark already had a boyfriend.

Ah yes. David. David who was absolutely perfect in every way; not as perfect as Mark obviously, but still... If there was ever a list compiled of things needed for the perfect boyfriend, David would earn triple ticks in every single category. David was smart, and David was funny, and David was gorgeous and kind and amazing and had these incredible green eyes that just...

Yeah, Kian had heard it a million times before, and every time he heard it his heart broke just that little bit more. Because Mark only wanted David. He didn’t want anyone else because David was utterly perfect. David had stood by Mark through the past six crazy years and, as far as Kian could tell, had never once faltered when the trappings of celebrity life became almost too much. David hadn’t minded being the secret boyfriend that nobody knew about; hadn’t minded that Mark had to go out on ‘dates’ that Louis had arranged to keep his sexuality a secret.

And David certainly didn’t mind when Mark moaned softly and moved to sit astride his lap, his tongue plunging in and out of his boyfriend’s mouth. Kian could barely stand it, seeing the two of them like that, just so fucking _happy_ with each other. It made him sick to his stomach to see it, Mark and David being so fucking in love.

David’s hand was working its way up the back of Mark’s shirt while the others sat oblivious around the room. They were all used to it. Mark and David had been apart for so long that it was expected they make use of this momentary respite in celebrity duties.

Nicky sat down next to him and suggested a game of cards. Kian was pathetically overjoyed.

Kian nodded and followed Nicky upstairs to the small front area of the bus, sitting down next to Shane, who was already shuffling the deck. Shane greeted him with a nod and he returned it half-heartedly, trying desperately not to think of what Mark and David would be doing now that they had been left alone downstairs. He heard Mark let out a shriek of laughter and tried to hold back the sudden wave of nausea that swept over him when David echoed the noise.

“Kian!”

Kian was shaken out of his reverie by Shane, who smirked at him, waving his hand in front of the blonde’s face.

“Earth calling Kian! You in there, mate?”

Kian shook his head to clear the fog and then nodded, smiling as realistically as he could, even when he heard a breathless cry from directly below them. He knew it was Mark; how many nights had he lain awake wishing Mark would make that very noise for him?

“Yeah sorry. Just thinking.”

“Well that’s a first.” Nicky teased, picking up the cards that Shane dealt him and squinting at them carefully. “What are we playing, anyway?”

“Twenty one.” Shane replied, running his finger over the top of his cards before selecting a pair and dropping them on the table. “Any more?”

“Nah.” Nicky shook his head. “I’ll sit.”

All activity paused as a hoarse “Mark!” echoed from downstairs and Shane pulled a fiver out of his pocket, slamming it down on the table and grinning around at the other two boys.

“Five says Mark comes first.”

Nicky smiled, listening intently to the unmistakeable sounds echoing through the remarkably thin floor/ceiling between them and the couple downstairs. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and, smirking, put down a fiver as well.

“David.”

Kian rolled his eyes at the familiar banter. He couldn’t believe his friends were placing bets on Mark’s sex life! Of course, had it been Nicky or Shane downstairs, he would have been temporary bookkeeper. But when it was a sex life he actually wanted to be involved in… it was torture. There was no other way to explain it.

“Hey Shane, hit me.” He said in a tone he hoped was flippant enough without being too obvious. Shane placed his finger against his lips to shush him as Mark cried out.

“Oh god... I’m... Oh... David!”

“Oh, shut up.” Nicky pouted as Shane got to his feet and began dancing victoriously around the small table, pocketing his winnings. Kian tried to laugh as Nicky started giggling at the outrageous exhibition, but somehow he just couldn’t play along.

Especially when David was reaching a very vocal orgasm not seven feet below.

“Shane. Hit me?” Kian repeated as the noises below died down and the others turned back to their cards.

“Erm, yeah.” Shane replied after a second, looking down at the cards and flipping one off the deck. “Bust, mate. Sorry.”

They played for a long time, neither Mark nor David making an appearance. After about an hour, Kian put down his cards and stood.

“I’m going to the loo.”

The others nodded and he made his way to the stairs, stumbling down them as his left leg started to wake up, sharp stabs of itchy pain throbbing along his calf and around his foot, causing him to wince as he placed it on the step.

“Ow ow ow ow ow.” He muttered as he reached the bottom, then stopped short at the sight that greeted him.

Both Mark and David were fast asleep on the bottom bunk, thankfully with their clothes back on. David’s arm was wrapped around Mark’s waist and his face buried in the back of the younger boy’s hair. They were spooned together, every inch of their bodies touching in some way, Mark’s legs curled up slightly with David’s wrapped around them.

Mark murmured softly in his sleep, his eyelids twitching lazily, but even the fear of being caught watching couldn’t make Kian move. He was transfixed, and his heart started to beat a little faster as Mark rolled over in his sleep and burrowed into David’s chest, David tightening his arms unconsciously and pressing his face into Mark’s hair, letting out a soft sigh as he did.

Kian couldn’t stop a tear rolling down his cheek as they settled again, legs tangled together so fucking _perfectly_. He stood for a few more seconds as Mark shifted again, moving an impossible inch closer to his flawless boyfriend.

Kian shook his head, another tear escaping, and strode as quickly as he could towards the loo. The numbness and pain had disappeared from his leg in the time he had stood there, but he could feel it taking up residence in his skull. His head was starting to pound, tears of frustration and melancholy building up behind his eyes and making his head ache even more. He shut the door and sat down on the toilet, burying his face in his hands to try and stop the terrible throbbing.

“Fuck.” He murmured absently, trying to find a way to express how he was feeling without bursting into tears. He couldn’t cry, no matter how much he might want to. If he cried, the others would know and he didn’t want to explain it to them. Didn’t want to explain that he was so desperately in love with Mark that he was crying in the tourbus toilets. “Fuck.” He whispered again. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck...”

After a long minute his heart slowed and the pounding in his head eased. He lifted his head from his hands and stared hatefully at the toilet door, knowing exactly who was on the other side.

Mark.

And David.

Fucking Mark and fucking David. Who were so fucking close that they had almost become one person. Mark and David, who were so fucking together that a pop career hadn’t split them up. Mark and David. Mark and David. Mark and David. He fucking hated them.

But he didn’t hate them. He hated _them_. Mark was right for picking David; David was perfect in every single way – the perfect boyfriend – and Kian could remember a time when he had really liked David, had thought he was perfect as well, had been his mate. He could remember when his feelings for Mark had been appropriate, when Mark and David hadn’t been together. That had been okay. Good, even. This…

Kian took a deep breath as the throbbing threatened to envelop his skull, holding it for a second and then releasing, hoping the pain would go with it. It worked to a certain degree, but there was still that unavoidable white noise buzzing in the back of his head. He stood and took the tiny step required to reach the mirror, staring at himself with disgust. No wonder Mark was with David instead of him. David didn’t have big fat rings around his eyes and look so fucking... pathetic. Deep inside Kian knew that wasn’t true, Mark didn’t care about rings around David’s eyes, but Kian was in a self-pitying mood.

Same as the past four years then.

He splashed some water on his face, for all the good it did, and appraised himself again.

Crap. Absolute Crap.

He shrugged helplessly at his own reflection and ran his fingers through his hair as he turned back to the door, letting a faintly trembling hand rest on the handle. Taking another breath to calm himself he tightened his grip, pushing the door open to the sight of...

Mark and David awake.

Great.

They were still pressed flush against each other, and had Kian not been able to see their faces he would have thought them still asleep. They were looking at each other with complete and utter adoration, hands clasped between them and lips moving almost silently.

David said something and Mark lifted their joined hands to his mouth, brushing his lips gently over them. David smiled and leant forward, their lips meeting in a tender kiss that had Kian seeing spots. Mark spoke as they parted, foreheads still pressed together, an adoring gaze reflecting back and forth between the blue and green orbs.

“I love you.”

David smiled fondly, his fingers stroking through Mark’s dark hair. Kian resisted the urge to scream right there and then as waves of anguish rolled through him. David’s lips moved and Kian couldn’t quite hear what was said, but apparently Mark did because they were kissing again, hands tracing up and down each others sides, Mark’s fingers clenching in David’s sandy-brown hair.

Unable to watch any more, Kian made his careful way to the steps, praying that they were too wrapped in each other to notice him. The last thing he needed was for them to see him looking like he’d been run over by the tourbus. He really didn’t need Mark asking him what was wrong, didn’t need David being all caring and perfect. Didn’t need any of it.

“Ki?”

“Yeah?” Kian stopped on the stairs but refused to turn around, for fear of what he might see, for what Mark might see.

“What time is it?”

“Err...” Kian checked his watch, still not turning around. “About four-thirty. We should be in Dublin in half an hour.”

“Okay. Thanks.” David this time, and he even had a perfect voice. Sure he couldn’t sing for shit, and for that Kian was grateful. If he could sing, he might have been part of the band and Kian couldn’t begin to cope with that. Still, he did have a nice speaking voice. Kinda husky and smooth, a bit like Nicky’s but... prettier. Even to Kian that made no sense, but it was true. Kian hated it.

He kept walking, but caught the tail end of the conversation.

“Do you have to get off at Dublin?”

“You know I do. Gotta love uni, hey?”


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn’t fair on Mark, having a boyfriend that was never there.

After bidding a tearful goodbye to David, Mark followed Kian up to their shared room. They were the only ones in the lift, Nicky and Shane opting to take the stairs so Nicky didn’t have complete hysterics. Kian pushed the button for their floor and then relaxed against the mirrored wall, watching the floors go by and surreptitiously watching Mark, who was stood against the opposite wall, teeth worrying his bottom lip and his whole body screaming defeat.

“You alright?” Kian asked, moving closer and patting Mark’s arm companionably.

Mark released his lip and attempted a smile. “Yeah. No. I don’t...” He shook his head. “Bit sad, isn’t it? He’s gone ten minutes and I’m already missing him.”

“Nah it’s not.” Kian replied, squeezing Mark’s shoulder and resisting the urge to just kiss him and make it all better. He was sure that would go down well. “He’ll be at the show on Friday, won’t he? You’ll see him then.”

Mark wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm, brushing away the tears that were beginning to mist over his eyes. “Yeah I know. But then I won’t see him for over a month.” He laughed weakly, scratching at the back of his neck. “God, I’m so co-dependant. Bit pathetic. Jesus, it’s only a month, you know? And I can still talk to him. Some people go longer without seeing their boyfriends and I’m...” He shrugged. “Sorry. I’m going on, aren’t I?”

The doors pinged open and they stepped out of the elevator. They found their room and Kian opened the door, shutting it behind them as Mark staggered into the room and collapsed on the bed, his face buried in the pillows. Kian was torn. If he went over to comfort Mark, he’d be hit by a barrage of ‘Oh David’s so wonderful...’, but if he stayed where he was, then he’d probably qualify for insensitive prick of the year. Christ, he knew how Mark felt, of course he did. He’d love to have someone to go on to about how much he loved Mark; he could at least show his best friend the same courtesy.

With a long-suffering sigh that he knew Mark would appreciate, he lay down alongside his mate, pulling him into a hug. It wasn’t fair on Mark, having a boyfriend that was never there. Kian knew this was just his own mind trying to justify why he was a better boyfriend for Mark than David was, but at least if Mark were his boyfriend he could be there all the time, not just part time.

Of course that was bullshit. Mark would much rather have a part-time David then a full-time Kian.

A tinny version of Mariah Carey’s _Hero_ sounded throughout the room and the two men pulled apart so that Mark could scramble about in his pocket for his phone, lifting it to his ear when he found it, grinning.

“Half an hour, babe? That’s a record, even for you!”

Kian looked away and sat on the edge of the bed, slowly untying the laces on his shoes. He wanted to run away, leave Mark alone with Mr Perfect, but that would mean leaving Mark. And that was way too hard.

“Yes I missed you! Did you miss me? Romantic eejit. Friday, yeah... What? But why…? No. No that’s… yeah I know you are but…There’s no way you can…?”

Mark’s face was falling fast and Kian sat up to wrap his arm around him, Mark’s entire body screaming for comfort. Mark leant into him and continued talking to David.

“Okay.” Mark sighed, chewing on his lip. “Yeah I love you too. I’m just… yeah. Yeah okay. Bye.”

Mark ended the call and put the phone back on the bed, defeat visibly spreading through him, dropping his limbs and hunching his shoulders. Kian out a hand on his shoulder, looking at him questioningly and starting when he realised just how crushed the younger boy was. “What’s happened?”

Mark shook his head, biting his lip in an attempt to not cry. “He um...” He started, running his hand through his own hair. “He can’t come on Friday night. He just opened his uni email and he’s got an essay that he didn’t know about. Has to be done by Saturday and he needs Friday night to finish it.”

Kian made what he hoped was a sympathetic noise and stroked Mark’s hair, pulling him gently into a hug. Mark allowed himself to be embraced and buried his face in Kian’s neck, small dry sobs wracking his body. He wasn’t crying, Kian knew he wouldn’t. Mark often got upset, but Kian had never seen a tear escape. It was just what Mark was like.

“It’ll be okay.” Kian whispered soothingly. He didn’t know what to say beyond that. He couldn’t just say ‘hey, you’ll see him in a month’; that was totally insensitive. Somebody had once said that to Nicky when he was missing Georgina, and had nearly had his head taken off. Gently running his hands up and down Mark’s back, Kian kissed the back of his neck. “But you’ve still get me, right?” It was meant jokingly, but didn’t really see it that way and he was sure Mark didn’t either. Mark raised his head and nodded, raking his hands through his hair.

“Yeah. It’s just that David...” And wasn’t that the story of Kian’s life?

“Yeah I know.”

Mark nodded, laying down on the bed and curling up in a ball, knees pressed to his chest. Kian lay down next to him, stroking Mark’s hair gently.

“Do you want anything? Cup of tea maybe?”

Mark shook his head. “No. No I’m fine. Just... whatever.”

“Okay.” Kian said softly, checking his watch. “We’ve got an hour until dinner. D’you want me to order room service, or do you want to have it downstairs with the others?” Mark bit his lip, his eyes downcast as he thought about it. “Might help you get your mind off it.” Kian supplied. “If you come downstairs we could all go out after and get plastered.” He paused. “Shane might try and use a lampshade as a hat again.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Mark’s lips and when he nodded, Kian knew he had done the right thing. “Do you want the shower first?”

“Yeah.”

After Mark was safely out of the room, Kian collapsed back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was angry at David for abandoning Mark like that, but knew deep inside that he probably hadn’t wanted to. David was probably as devastated as Mark was, but Kian couldn’t help feeling mad at him for making Mark so unavoidably miserable.

Mark was singing in the shower, Kian could hear it over the thunder of the water on the tiles. It didn’t necessarily mean anything; Mark always sang no matter what mood he was in. He’d start up a bit of one song and then half way through he’d switch to another. Right then it was _As Long As You Love Me_ , but as Kian listened, it switched to Mariah’s _Always Be My Baby_. Kian smiled. If there was anybody Mark loved as much as David, it was Mariah.

And wasn’t that just great? Now Kian was third in line for his affections.

The shower shut off and the sound of _Sweet Home Alabama_ echoed through the door, amplified by the tiles. Kian smiled and went to find some clothes before Mark came out.

The door swung open and Kian turned as Mark’s voice suddenly became more audible. He was about to say something sarcastic about Mark singing _Beauty and the Beast_ but stopped as he realised what Mark was wearing.

A towel.

And.

Nothing.

Else.

“What?” Mark’s voice broke through his thoughts and Kian shook his head to clear it, realising in horror that he had been staring at Mark’s... dripping... chest... stomach... hair... and... Oh fuck.

Kian smiled apologetically, aware that his face was suddenly about a hundred degrees hotter. “Sorry. Just zoned out there for a second.”

Mark rolled his eyes and smacked Kian playfully over the back of the head. “I swear you’re getting just as bad as Shane.” Kian stuck his tongue out and picked up his clothes, heading for the bathroom. It was true that he’d ‘zoned out’ a lot lately, but if Mark was going to be parading around in a towel like that, he could hardly be blamed. And oh look, he was hard as a result. Marvellous.

He stripped off and climbed in the shower, looking down at his latest problem. His cock stuck straight out in front of him, almost painfully hard from the sight of Mark’s near nudity. Of course, everything about Mark gave him at least a semi hard-on, but this was just too much. God help him if Mark had been naked.

The water thundered down over his erection and he winced as it pounded the sensitive skin, feeling every drop that hit. He could feel droplets lingering on his balls before dropping onto the floor and he shuddered as his cock got that impossible bit harder.

Kian gasped as he touched himself, his body automatically pulling away from the touch. He shut his eyes and tightened his grip, sighing at the momentary respite from the painful pressure spreading throughout his lower half. His nipples were impossibly sensitive and he rubbed them lightly, holding back a cry at the wave of pleasure that gripped him. Slowly he started to stroke, biting his lip to stop any telltale sounds. Images of Mark filled his mind and Kian pressed his hot forehead against the cool tiles as he ran his thumb over his tip, the moisture spreading before being washed away by the steady stream of water.

He continued to stroke as he traced his finger over his arse, pressing in hesitantly. A light brush on his entrance sent a tingling wave throughout his body and he bit his lip harder, hoping he didn’t draw blood. Another brush against his hole and he finally came, unable to stop a soft whisper of ‘Mark’ escaping as he found his release.

He stood for a moment, panting hard as he allowed the cold tiles against his forehead to cool his overheated body. Soon the shudders stopped and he stepped back under the hot flow of water, washing his hair and body, a stupid smile crossing his face when he realised what Mark was singing now.

_I Touch Myself_


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of many rounds

The others had been sympathetic to Mark’s depression when the two of them arrived downstairs, and had been quite agreeable when a booze-up was suggested, though Kian suspected they’d be just as agreeable whether Mark was depressed or not. They ate their meals in record time and, half an hour later, they hailed a taxi.

They chose a table near the bar, but still secluded enough that they wouldn’t be recognised. Mark slid into the booth, flanked by Nicky and Kian, as Shane went to order the first of many rounds.

Mark sipped his drink absently and Kian watched as the darker boy sank further and further into his chair, misery obvious. Kian didn’t quite get it. Mark wasn’t normally like this on the first day without David. He was usually exactly the same as normal, not needing his boyfriend there to have a good time. This was different though, Kian thought as Mark suddenly lifted up his drink and downed it. This time Mark had had expectations.

“Do you wanna dance?” Kian asked, bending down to yell his question into Mark’s ear. Mark studied him or a moment before nodding and allowing Kian to pull him up onto the dancefloor where Shane and Nicky were already throwing themselves around. Shane and Nicky grabbed each others shoulders with both hands and began jumping madly on the spot until Nicky managed to trip on Shane’s legs, almost sending them tumbling to the floor. They stayed on their feet though and Kian smiled as he noticed Mark laughing at the inane spectacle, Kian joining in with the laughter as they began to jump again.

They began chucking themselves around the dancefloor with Nicky and Shane, stopping only for more alcohol. It seemed to work; Mark was a lot more relaxed now and was smiling and laughing along with everyone else as the alcohol started working around his bloodstream and thoughts of David left his head.

Kian watched as a plastered Shane launched himself onto Mark’s back, laughing stupidly as Mark yelped and stumbled. He was startled, then, when he received similar treatment from Nicky, swearing as he fell into Mark and Shane.

“Shit Nix...” Kian gasped as the hold around his neck tightened. “Get off, will ya? Can’t breathe!”

“Ah, ya wimp!” Nicky taunted, releasing Kian’s neck and rolling his eyes. Kian sucked in a welcome breath, coughing as his crushed windpipe protested. He looked over at Mark, who was just being released, and choked out a hoarse laugh.

“Tossers.”

“I’ll ditto that.” Mark replied, shoving Shane away. “Fuck off Shay. Go annoy Nicky.”

Shane disappeared with a mischievous nod and Kian turned back to Mark. “Another drink?”

“God yes.”

Three drinks later they sat together in the booth, arms draped drunkenly around each other as unconsciousness became a real possibility. Kian blinked slowly as Mark’s head dropped onto his shoulder and, smiling, rested his head on top of Mark’s.

Mark let out a small snort of laughter and Kian returned it, not really sure what was so funny.

“I’m soooooo drunk.” Mark said, another laugh escaping his lips. There was silence for a minute as he surveyed the dancefloor unsteadily. “Are Shane and Nicky waltzing together or is that just me?”

Kian turned his gaze to the dancefloor and spotted their friends. Mark was right, they were indeed waltzing; huge dramatic sweeps of their bodies cutting through the other dancers. He reiterated this to Mark, laughing as Shane dipped Nicky, giggling all the while.

“Oh good. Thought I was going mad.” He paused. “Those two are the gayest straight people I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah.” Kian replied, reaching for his drink again and attempting to drink it sideways, unable to remove his leaden head from the top of Mark’s at that point in time. “But they’re married. It’s not like they can pick up girls, is it? Their wives’d kill them."

“Mmmm.” Mark said absently and left it at that, too plastered to be able to formulate a witty response. Kian laughed anyway and buried his face momentarily in Mark’s hair, sniffing in the unique smell of sweat, shampoo, and Mark. Mark smiled and turned to rest his face in Kian’s shoulder, sighing contentedly.

Okay so this was new, Kian thought as Mark let out another happy sigh and picked up his drink again, frowning as he realised it was empty. “Bollocks.” Mark muttered, clumsily setting the glass back on the table. “Empty.”

For some reason this sent them both into hysteria and they clutched each other as they fell about laughing, their chests hurting by the time they finally stopped.

“I’ll get you another drink, Marky!” Kian said triumphantly as he stood on wobbling legs. “What’ll you have?”

“Alcolahol!”

“Right!” Kian agreed, with the composure of someone who has gotten to that stage where drunk-speak sounds perfectly reasonable. He staggered to the bar and procured two more drinks before returning to the table, sliding in next to Mark and proudly handing him his.

“My hero.” Mark said. Kian was unable to tell whether he was being sarcastic or serious, but he decided it didn’t really didn’t matter. He was far too drunk to care about anything except the feel of Mark’s thigh against his, and the sleepy blue gaze fixed on him.

“I love ye Mark. You’re me best mate, y’know?”

“Yeah. Me too.” Mark replied, resting his head back on Kian’s shoulder. “Love ya Kino.” He mumbled something unintelligible and Kian ducked his head to hear what it was, starting when he realised in his own pissed way just how close Mark’s lips were.

“What?” Kian asked, trying not to get distracted by Mark’s even breaths on his cheek. Mark looked back at him and Kian turned his head, transfixed by the azure orbs and only thinking about getting closer to them. He was drowning in Mark’s eyes and moved that little bit closer, trying to see properly into them.

Closer, closer, and their faces were almost pressed together now, lips almost touching. Mark’s eyes were darker than they had been before, Kian knew it, and both their breathing had sped up, their chests moving with anticipation as Mark swallowed and parted his lips, Kian moving even closer...

Their lips touched and both boys pulled back with a start, breathing frantically, sobriety hitting them like a sudden slap in the face as they realised what they had been about to do. Kian’s eyes settled on Mark and took in the heavy breathing, darkened eyes, and moist lips. He was just about to go in for a proper kiss, the last remnants of the alcohol clouding any thought of the complete wrongness of this, making him forget Mark had a boyfriend. He leant in again, seeing only the lust in Mark’s eyes...

And so it came as more than a shock when Mark pushed him away with both hands and ran.

Kian sat there in stunned silence for a moment, watching Mark shove through the dancers crowding the club and then out the door, into the street. He couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t breathe. What had just happened?

He shook his head, trying to clear the drunken haze that was still swathed about his mind. He remembered Mark’s eyes and then...

Oh.

Oh fuck.

David.

And Mark.

And Kian had...

Mark, David, Kian, Mark...

“Oh fuck!” Kian groaned, dropping his head onto the wood of the table and then bashing it a few times for good measure. He realised that hadn’t been such a good idea as pain started to filter through. But he couldn’t begin to think about pain right now because Mark...

“Hey where’d Mark go?”

Nicky was standing in front of him, propping Shane up as the darker boy went to sleep on his shoulder. Nicky smirked and stuck a finger in Shane’s ear.

“Huh? What?” Shane’s eyes snapped open and he almost fell over in his attempt to get away from the probing finger. Nicky rolled his eyes and shoved Shane into the booth, next to Kian.

“So where’s Mark gone? He buggered off pretty quick. Did he need a shit?” Nicky giggled drunkenly.

Kian opened his mouth, his brain working to think of a response, but none came. He shut his mouth again, looking between Nicky, who was staring at him expectantly, and Shane, who was talking quietly to a cardboard beer-mat.

“I... uh...” Kian shook his head, realising there was no way to explain it to them without incurring some kind of wrath from someone. Fuck; what had he gotten himself into?

Shaking his head, he stood up and followed in Mark’s footsteps, shoving through the dancers and out the door, the sudden rush of cold night breeze forcing the air out of his lungs as he left the sweaty heat of the club behind.

Three blocks later, Kian finally spotted Mark, walking with his hands deep in his pockets, head bowed. He was walking fairly quickly, and Kian kept running as fast as he could, even though his chest was starting to protest. He shook his head in disbelief as he ran. He could dance on stage for ninety minutes, but ask him to run three blocks? Pathetic!

“Mark! Wait!”

Mark turned at the shout of his name, and paused long enough to realise it was Kian before turning and walking on determinedly and possibly a little faster. Kian didn’t stop though and he was almost dead when he finally caught up, grabbing Mark’s shoulder and spinning him around. Satisfied that Mark had stopped, Kian bent to catch his breath, his hands resting on his knees

“Fuck off Kian.” Mark spat, turning and walking on. Kian grabbed at Mark’s jacket as he moved away, hanging on even as Mark batted none-too-gently at his arm.

“Mark please...” Kian said standing up and letting go of Mark’s jacket, only to latch onto his arm. “Please just talk to me...”

“About what?!” Mark exclaimed, shoving Kian away, his voice rising dangerously. Mark very rarely got truly angry about something, but when he did it was guaranteed to be explosive. “What do you want to talk about?!” Mark repeated, poking Kian hard in the chest. “Do you want to talk about the fact that you just fucking kissed me?! How about the fact that you did it in public, where anyone could see?! What about my boyfriend?! Do you want to talk about him?!” With each question Mark pushed Kian a little harder towards the buildings until he was backed up against the hard concrete, Mark’s hands shoving forcefully against his chest. “I mean, fuck!” Mark cried, taking a step away. “I spend six fucking years trying to stop the public from finding out about me and you may have wrecked it all because, for some stupid reason known only to you, you decide to try to kiss me!” He glared at Kian and clenched his fists at his sides. “Why? Why would you even do that?”

Kian tried to speak, but somehow the words wouldn’t come. What was he supposed to say? ‘I love you, Mark, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you?’ Yeah, that would go down well. He might actually be killed, as well as having his best friend hate him. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He shrugged.

“Fuck.” Mark muttered, moving away and looking off to the side somewhere. “Fuck fuck fuck. Kian just...” He started, looking back at his friend before giving up and looking away again. “Fuck.”

“Look...” Kian started, pushing himself away from the wall and going to take Mark’s hand. Mark didn’t seem to be keen on this so Kian dropped his hands back to his sides. “Look, let’s go back to the hotel, okay? You can yell at me there because if they didn’t see us in the club, somebody’s bound to overhear us here and that’s the last thing any of us need.”

Mark shut his eyes and there was silence for a moment before he resentfully nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose hard. Kian nodded back and hailed a cab, both boys scooting to opposite sides of the back seat. The silence hung ominously between them and Kian was glad to leave the car after what seemed like an hour. He knew it was only ten minutes at most, but it seemed so much longer when Mark refused to look at him, just stared out the window studying the traffic

He paid the driver and followed Mark into the building, the silence still painful, and journeyed up in the lift, both boys staring at the numbers as they lit up, in an attempt to not look at each other. They finally exited and Mark swiped the keycard, holding it open for Kian to walk past. The courtesy was not lost on Kian and he hoped that maybe, just maybe, Mark had forgiven him.

Yeah, right.

Mark plonked himself down in a chair as Kian stood uneasily in the centre of the room, unsure what to do. Mark pointed at the bed. “Sit.”

Kian did so and looked at his hands, not sure where to start. Mark did though, and Kian looked up in surprise as he spoke.

“Why?”

Kian shrugged. How did you explain to your best friend that you’d been in love with them for four years, despite the fact that he had a boyfriend? Sure, he’d had dreams where he’d admitted that exact thing, but they usually ended with a dramatic walk into the sunset, or at least a really good shag. None of the dreams ended like this, with Mark’s face full of thunder, and his eyes a cold steel-blue that Kian had never seen before.

“I don’t know what to say...”

And wasn’t that the truth?

“Say it never happened, that it was just my drunk imagination playing games with me. Say we never even went out in the first place, that we sat at the hotel all night playing… Monopoly, or something.”

“It never happened...” Kian started. “You just imagined...”

“Shut up.” Mark whispered, all the fight gone from him now. Kian knew he hadn’t been forgiven, but at least Mark wasn’t screaming any more. Mark scared him when he was like that; it was so alien to see him raise his voice to anyone, let alone one of his mates. “Just... tell me why you did it.”

“I don’t know.” Kian replied, collapsing backwards onto the bed. “I just... you were there and I was drunk and...” He shrugged, sitting up again so he could see Mark’s face. “I don’t know, not really. I never set out to do it. It just kinda happened.”

“Yeah because the press’ll believe that when they get a hold of it.” Mark replied softly, and Kian could tell that he was no longer angry. He hadn’t been forgiven, not by a long shot, but he thought that maybe Mark understood. Mark groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “Jesus fucking Christ, what am I going to tell David? He’ll fucking kill me.”

“He won’t.” Kian said, moving forward on his knees and taking Mark’s hands. He knew it was a risk to do this, but when Mark didn’t flinch away he knew he’d done the right thing. “You’ll explain it to him. You were drunk and it was just a stupid kiss between mates. It didn’t mean anything.”

“No. You’re right. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Exactly.” Except it did mean something, to one of them at least. Kian pushed that thought aside. He didn’t matter; this was about Mark. “And you don’t even need to tell him. It can just be our secret.”

Mark paused, studying Kian, and then nodded. “Yeah. Our secret.”

“Exactly.” Kian said again. “Now why don’t I ring Nix and tell him we’re back at the hotel and then we can go to bed. It’ll all be forgotten in the morning.”

Mark nodded and Kian pulled out his mobile. He explained that Mark was feeling sick and he’d taken him back to bed. Kian lay down on his own double bed, trying to ignore the fact that Mark was as far away from him as he could get, turned away and with the blanket over his head. Kian pursed his lips and cursed himself for his own stupidity.

Now he’d fucked everything up, and for what? Half a momentary kiss from the man he was desperately in love with? Oh yeah, that was reasonable.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much for not caring

The next six weeks passed uneventfully, the tour rushing by in a steady stream of screaming girls, blinding lights, and frenetic dance moves. Mark had been uncharacteristically wary around Kian since the incident and, while it did hurt a little, Kian decided he could hardly be blamed. He had kissed him, for fucks sakes. They were just lucky that nobody had seen them.

Mark was starting to get increasingly excited as the tour came to a close, almost unable to contain himself at thought of seeing David again. And as Mark’s mood improved, Kian’s did the opposite. Soon the love-birds would be back together, sharing things that Kian could never begin to think of having with Mark. The one thing they had shared, the notorious kiss, had done nothing to curb Kian’s desire; if anything it had made it worse, causing Kian to wake up night after night with a raging hard-on and, on one occasion, a disgustingly sticky mess staining his sheets.

It was the last night of tour and they were all excited at going home. Shane and Nicky had been missing their wives like mad, but they were in another country and wouldn’t see them until tomorrow.

It was a surprise then, when David showed up at the gig.

They were all sitting around in the dressing room, waiting while the support act did their thing. There was a good forty-five minutes until they went on and they were making the most of it. They’d been leaping around for about twenty minutes, trying to psyche themselves up, and Mark and Shane had just collapsed on the couches, while Kian and Nicky chased each other around the room. It was absolutely manic, and Kian found himself pushed over the back of the couch onto the seat, to land in a giggling heap at Shane’s feet. He was just about to pull Nicky over as well when the door opened and a familiar voice called out.

“Uh... hi... I was looking for Mark Westlife? You see, he’s my favourite and...”

“Oh my god!” Mark cried, launching himself at the young man stood in the doorway. David laughed and hugged him tightly, placing kisses all over Mark’s face before capturing his lips and kissing him hard. “What are you doing here?” Mark exclaimed as he pulled away, stepping back to appraise his boyfriend.

“Well I’m a big fan and...” David chuckled into the firm kiss Mark placed on his lips. Mark finally pulled away and David grinned, ruffling Mark’s hair playfully. “Do you treat all your fans this way?” He joked. Mark shoved him light-heartedly and then wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist again, pulling him close. “So anyway...” David continued. “I decided I’d come see you prance about, and then take you back home tomorrow. Sorted it with Jake and your stuff’s already in my car. How’s that sound?”

“Fucking brilliant.” Mark replied seriously, stroking David’s face gently as if to reacquaint himself with the other boy. “Your hair’s longer.”

“It is.” David replied. “You like?”

“Yeah.” Mark replied, running his fingers through it almost shyly. “Yeah I do. Fuck I’ve missed you.”

“Bet you didn’t. Bet you’ve not even thought about me, living the high life with your fancy parties, and gorgeous men falling at your feet.”

“I always think about you and you know it.” Mark was unperturbed and carded his fingers through the longer hair. “Couldn’t stop, even if I wanted to.”

“Oi!” Nicky called out as they went to kiss again. “You want to do that with the door shut? It’s all very sweet and romantic, but the last thing we need right now is for some idiot with a camera to walk past.”

“Oops.” David said, stepping in properly and kicking the door shut behind them. Mark dragged him over to the emptiest couch and sat down, pulling him into a gentle kiss.

Nicky smiled.

Shane smiled.

Kian stood and walked into the bathroom, trying to fight the wave of nausea that filled his stomach and flooded his throat.

He could hear animated talking from the room he’d just left and covered his ears in an attempt to block it, groaning miserably when it didn’t work. He could hear Mark laughing and then Shane said something and now David and Mark were laughing together, their voices mingling in a way that was just so fucking _right_ Kian couldn’t stand it. It brought back a time, so many years ago, when he and Mark had laughed like that. A time when Mark hadn’t been gay, when David hadn’t been in the picture. A time when Kian hadn’t been in love with the one man he could never have.

He shook his head at himself and sighed. Mark didn’t deserve this; some pining, pathetic wimp with a crush. Mark had a boyfriend, and wasn’t even remotely interested in anyone else, as that kiss at the club had shown. But every time Kian thought about that kiss, he thought about the look in Mark’s eyes...

No! That was stupid! Mark was drunk, Kian was drunk, end of story. Mark was not interested, a theory emphasised by the very loud laughter coming from the dressing room. Mark was not fucking interested, so it wasn’t fair on him to be acting like some love-sick teenager every time the younger man was in the room. Well, he’d just have to curb his interests, wouldn’t he? Leave Mark alone and find someone else.

But that was easier said than done.

He took a deep breath and exited the bathroom again, smiling cheerfully as his eyes fell on Mark and David. They weren’t doing anything particularly lovey dovey, unless you counted David’s arm around Mark’s waist as they sat on the couch. But then, that wasn’t Kian’s concern any more. He. Did. Not. Care.

David stood, dropping a kiss on Mark’s lips as he did. “Gotta go find my seat. I’ll come pick you up afterwards if you meet me here.”

“Yeah okay.” Mark replied, tugging David back for another kiss. “Where you sitting?”

“Front row. Like I said, got Jake to sort it. I’m between a girl with a rude sign and a boy with a teddy bear.”

Mark laughed. “Alright, see you after.”

“You’ll do more than see me. You’ll...” The rest was whispered in Mark’s ear, but Kian could tell from the shudder and light blush spreading over Mark’s cheeks that the suggestion was more than welcome.

“Promise?” Mark whispered hoarsely.

David nodded, and pulled away from Mark, kissing his cheek. “Love you. See you soon.”

“Yeah. Ditto.”

David bid them all farewell and left, passing Jake, who greeted him and then poked his head into the Westlife dressing room.

“Ten minutes lads.”

The concert was terrible, at least from Kian’s point of view. Sure, they danced and sang as normal, but every time Kian looked in Mark’s direction, Mark had his eyes on David. Mark’s performance had been better than ever, and Kian knew it was because of his precious boyfriend. Mark was singing every word to David, and Kian couldn’t pretend to himself that he didn’t care.

“ _...You wrap me up in kisses baby, head to toe...”_

Kian felt himself get angrier with every word, watching Mark and David exchange their secret smiles and winks. Spots started to dance in front of his eyes as frustration clenched around his chest, but he just gritted his teeth against the wave of resentment and kept singing, hoping the fans would mistake his pained grimace for a smile.

“… _and it’s like flying without wings, cos you’re my special thing…”_

Kian watched as the beautiful full lips twisted into a loving smile, and glanced down as David returned it, blowing Mark a soppy kiss. Mark blushed a little and Kian rolled his eyes. It was disgusting really. How had he ever thought he wanted a pathetic relationship like that? They were like teenagers! But then Kian looked in Mark’s direction and again his breath was stolen by the dark-haired boy with the angelic voice and big blue eyes.

“ _...You are my very first thought in the morning...”_

Mark was still fucking singing to him! Didn’t they ever get fucking bored? It appeared not, and Kian felt his face twisting into an unconscious scowl as David picked up a large sheet of cardboard and held it up with the other fans. Oh great, David had made his own fucking sign!

Kian squinted. What did it say...? Mark seemed to like it because he was holding back a laugh. Kian moved slightly closer...

**FEEHILY’S FUCK-TOY!**

With a big fucking arrow pointing down at David. Mark placed a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle and moved slightly closer to the railing of the walkway, giving David a small wink. David laughed and blew another kiss, grinning as Mark moved back into position and stood behind his microphone for the last song.

Fucking fuck!

Kian was grateful when the concert finished. The ninety minute set had seemed to go on for days and he almost ran to the dressing rooms, wanting to get the hell out of there before David came and got all cutesy with Mark. Ugh, it was enough to turn his stomach.

Nicky and Shane bounced into the room just as he finished getting his stuff, followed closely by Mark, who was clearly over the moon at David’s presence and was babbling like a hyperactive toddler.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe he brought that sign! I mean...”

Kian bit his lip to stop himself from turning around and telling Mark to just shut the fuck up. Did Mark really have to rub it in his face? Kian knew that wasn’t his intention, Mark didn’t even know how he felt, but it sure felt like it. After seeing an hour and half of the two of them being all _in love_ , it really seemed as if God had whipped him with razor wire and then rubbed salt into the wounds for good measure. He shook his head and stood up.

“I’m out of here.”

The others turned around and looked at him in surprise, and Kian realised just how spiteful that had sounded. He shrugged and lowered his voice.

“I’m gonna go.”

“Ah, stay for a celebratory drink or ten!” Nicky exclaimed. “We’re on holidays, you know?”

“I’m tired. Gonna head back to the hotel and sleep.”

“Are you…?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. See ya.”

He heard them return the goodbye, but didn’t really care. He was already out the door and half way down the hall, tears stinging at his eyes.

So much for not caring.

“Kian! Wait!”

Kian stopped short as Mark’s voice echoed down the hall, but refused to turn around, torn between continuing down the hall and waiting to see what Mark wanted. In the end he stayed right where he was, crossing his arms protectively over his chest. Mark’s hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched away.

“What do you want?”

“I um...” Mark hesitated, his eyes filled with sudden hurt. Kian wanted to say sorry, wanted to hug him, but knew that if he did that he’d lose the mask he’d carefully constructed over the last few years. If Mark touched him again he was going to cry, no question. Mark took a deep breath and continued. “I just wanted to say... have a good holiday and... yeah.” Kian looked at him silently, disbelief and contempt mixing in his eyes. Mark shrugged, giving up and turning back the way he had come. “Okay fine. See ya then.”

“Mark?” Kian’s voice was weak and Mark turned around to look at him, smiling half-heartedly. “Just... you too, yeah?”

Mark sighed and walked back to Kian, wrapping one arm around his friend’s shoulders. Kian didn’t resist, he didn’t have the energy.

“You can talk to me, you know, if there’s something on your mind?” Kian went to deny it, but Mark shook his head. “I know there’s something up alright? And if you need to talk about it, well then we’re all here for you.” Mark tightened his grip and pulled Kian into a hug, kissing his hair gently. “We love you, don’t forget.”

Kian felt a pang of hatred jolt through his body at those last words and pulled out of Mark’s embrace, pushing the bigger boy away harder than he intended. “Just fuck off!” He croaked, crossing his arms against his chest again as tears threatened. “Just fucking... go, alright? Just...”

“Ki, what...?”

“No!” Kian shrieked. “No, fuck off! Go off on your fucking holiday with David! See what I fucking care!”

He didn’t give himself time to see Mark’s face twist into an expression of confusion and hurt. He didn’t need to, he already knew it would be there even as he ran away from Mark as fast as his legs could carry him, stumbling as he rounded the corner and burst outside, into one of the waiting cars.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wouldn't he rather have Mark's friendship than nothing at all?

Kian lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering how the hell he’d gotten himself into this mess. He had been there for the past three days, only moving to use the toilet. His mother had brought in food and drink for him, but he had ignored it for the most part, the almost constant lump in his throat making it hard to swallow.

He’d been tear-free for almost three hours now, which was a record for him in recent times. He’d tried to distract himself by reading a book, but found his mind wasn’t willing; the letters swimming lazily in front of his eyes until he gave up, the stark black and white making his head ache. He sighed and rolled over onto his side, clutching his pillow to his chest and burying his face into it.

He squeezed the pillow tighter to his chest as the lump in his throat made itself known again, and tried to blink back his tears.

How could he have said that to Mark? Mark must hate him, and not just for what he said, but the way he said it. He couldn’t remember being so angry in his whole life as he had been when he’d screamed at Mark in that corridor. And if Mark didn’t hate him for that, he must hate him now that he knew how Kian felt. Kian hadn’t said it in so many words, but it was pretty fucking obvious from what he’d said.

~“Go off on your fucking holiday with David! See what I fucking care!”~

Could he have sounded more like a spurned lover? Jesus, he didn’t have the monopoly on Mark’s life, and he’d made it sound as if Mark had cheated on him or something. Mark wasn’t his boyfriend. Mark was David’s.

Fucking David. Kian knew it wasn’t his fault, not really. David couldn’t help it if he saw the same thing in Mark that Kian did.

Everything.

Kian buried his face further into the pillow and tried to hold back the sob that threatened, but to no avail. The floodgates broke and Kian let the tears escape, not having the energy to hold them back any more.

 

*

 

Kian’s eyes fluttered open and he blinked sleepily, scrubbing his face and cursing as he realised he’d cried himself to sleep. He sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and tried to remember what had woken him.

There was a knock at the door and a soft voice calling his name. He shook his head, clearing the fog of sleep.

“Come in.”

A familiar face peered around the door and Kian attempted a smile, giving up when he realised that the false happiness made him want to cry again. He choked it back and ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to make himself look halfway respectable.

“Hey Shane.”

Shane smiled and stepped in, closing the door behind him. “Hiya Ki. Your mam said you’re not feeling too good?”

Kian shook his head and Shane sighed, coming over to sit on the bed, and put his arm around the younger boy’s shoulder. Kian allowed his head to rest on Shane’s shoulder and closed his eyes as he felt a small kiss land on his hair.

“Would this have something to do with Mark?”

Kian pulled away and looked at Shane in distress. Did he know? How did he know? Had Mark said...?

“Wh... why would you say that?”

“Because we could hear you after the concert? Because you haven’t been returning Mark’s calls?” It was true. He’d switched off his mobile, and been conveniently ‘out’ every time Mark rang his home number. Shane reached over to cup Kian’s cheek, tracing a tear-track with his thumb. “Because you’ve been crying?”

“I’ve... I’ve fucked it all up.” Kian said softly, and Shane moved closer, putting his arm back around Kian. “I’ve fucked up so badly, and Mark probably hates me now, and I...” He trailed off and shrugged, resting his head in the crook of Shane’s neck. “I... shit Shane.”

Shane sighed and stroked Kian’s hair gently, Kian letting a small sob escape at the unwarranted kindness. Why didn’t Shane hate him? He didn’t deserve this after the way he had treated Mark. He bit back more tears, surprised that he had any more left.

“He doesn’t hate you.” Shane said finally. “He’s not sure what he’s done, and he’s worried that you hate him.” He paused. “You don’t, do you?”

Kian shook his head vigorously. “Fuck no! How could he even think that? I lo...” He stopped, realising what he had been about to say and hoping Shane hadn’t caught it. “He’s my best mate.”

Shane had. He nodded and stroked Kian’s arms gently. “But maybe you wish it was a little bit more?” Kian stayed silent, his head bowed, not wanting to admit it. It had been locked in his head for so long that he didn’t know how to tell Shane his real feelings. It felt like a betrayal somehow. “Ki...” Shane said soothingly. “Whatever you say here, it stays between us, right? It just might help to tell someone, you know? I won’t judge.”

Kian took a deep breath to steady himself and then, slowly, he started talking. About Mark. About David. About his feelings. About every fucking thing that had happened over the past four years. How he couldn’t stop loving Mark, even though he’d tried, and how the feelings had only gotten stronger. He was amazed how good it felt just to tell someone about it all; it felt like an enormous weight had been lifted. The gates had been opened now and he kept talking, building momentum, telling Shane everything. Shane sat there silently the whole time, letting Kian talk, hugging him when he faltered. Kian was grateful for that, but didn’t dare look up at Shane’s face, terrified of the expression that might be there.

“And now... and now I don’t know what to do.” Kian finished. “Jesus, Shane. I just love him so fucking much. I never meant to hurt him.”

“Ki...” Shane murmured, stroking Kian’s arm gently. “God, I’m so sorry I never noticed...”

Kian looked down at his hands in disbelief. Why didn’t Shane hate him? Why wasn’t he yelling at him, or leaving or whatever?

“You don’t hate me?” Kian asked hesitantly.

“No. You can’t help who you fall in love with. It just sucks, you know? That it had to be Mark? I’m so sorry Ki.”

“Yeah, well.” Kian replied, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Nothing I can do about it, right?”

“I’m sorry.” Shane said again, not denying it. Kian shook his head.

“Nah, it’s not like it’s your fault. Jesus, I just wish it hadn’t happened. That I’d just kept my mouth shut. I didn’t mean to say it, really, but I was angry and it just sort of... came out.”

Shane kissed the top of his head and Kian sniffed, pushing himself into Shane’s embrace, just glad for the comfort.

“What you gonna do?” Shane asked, after a moment of silence. Kian shrugged.

“I don’t know. Been agonising over it for three days. What do you think I should do?”

“That’s a tough one.” Shane sighed, not a touch of humour in his voice. “It’s really up to you, but maybe you should talk to him?” Kian went to reject that idea and Shane shook his head, interrupting. “I don’t mean tell him everything. Maybe just apologise, or something. Tell him as much as you think is reasonable, just to get you back on speaking terms. He really doesn’t know what he’s done Ki. I spoke to him yesterday, when he was trying to get on to you. He really doesn’t know.”

“I don’t...” Kian shook his head. It made sense to talk to Mark, he knew it did, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face it yet. What was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry I acted like a lovesick teenager, I was having a bad week’? Yeah right. That’d go down well. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

“Alright.” Shane replied, patting his shoulder. “That’s all I can ask. I just want us to all be mates again, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Shane stood up. “Do you wanna go into town with me? You look as if you’ve been in here for months. You’re starting to look all pasty. The girlies won’t be impressed.”

Kian smiled, glad Shane was still able to joke with him, even after hearing the truth. “Nah. I’ll just stay here. Gotta think about stuff.”

“I’ll leave you alone then.” Shane said, bending down to give Kian a last hug. Kian hung on for a long moment before finally pulling away and nodding.

“Okay. See ya Shay.”

Shane gave him a last, sympathetic smile. “Bye Ki.”

When Shane was gone, the door shutting quietly behind him, Kian flopped back onto his bed, thinking. Maybe Shane was right, he mused. He did need to talk to Mark. He couldn’t just ignore him for ever, could he? And wouldn’t he rather have Mark’s friendship than not at all?

Jesus, that was the toughest question ever. Would he rather sit there pining away for the rest of his life, so near, but so far away from the one thing he wanted most in the entire world? Would he rather settle for friendly touches, and for saying ‘I love you’ when he knew Mark would only ever mean it as friends?

But then would he rather never see those amazing blue eyes again? Hear that honey-smooth voice? Smell that amazing Mark-smell that always seemed to linger about the other boy, a delicious cocktail of musk and sweat and aftershave? Would he rather never speak to Mark again, or hang out with him, or joke around, or pull pranks on the others with him?

Would he fucking rather?

Too bad there wasn’t a third option. Kian would have gladly taken it.

He sat up, hoisting himself off the bed and striding over to the wardrobe. The first thing he needed to do was get out of these pyjamas and put them in the wash, then have a shower.

Then he’d go see Mark.

After a few false starts, Kian finally trudged up the path to Mark and David’s house, his heart pounding like mad. What if Mark didn’t accept his apology? What if he was thrown out? Kian knew that was stupid; Mark would never. But it didn’t abate his fears, only made his heart pound harder and his tongue turn to leather. He swallowed nervously, stepping off the gravel and onto the front step, raising his hand hesitantly to press the doorbell. He pulled away in shock when the loud ring sounded throughout the house and clasped his hands in front of him, his fingers fidgeting as he bounced nervously on the balls of his feet.

There was movement inside and Kian attempted a smile as the door opened a crack to reveal David, in all his glory. Well, half his glory. He was naked from the waist up, clad only in jeans, the buttons of which his fingers were now scrabbling with.

“Er... hey.” Kian said, wishing he’d rung before coming. Did he really need to see David fresh from what looked like an extended make-out session? “I was looking for Mark?”

The door opened a little wider, and Kian tried to stop the wave of irritation that spread through him. He couldn’t stop this reaction whenever David was around, a sharp prickle that told him to get the fuck out of the room. He knew it was because of Mark, but he just couldn’t suppress it, not matter how hard he tried.

“Oh sorry.” David replied, finally pulling up the zip on his denims. “Mark’s not here at the moment. He’s gone to visit his mam.” He paused, looking down at his near-nakedness. “I was just sleeping.” He explained.

“Oh. Okay.” Kian replied, putting his hands deep in his pockets to repress the sudden overwhelming need to take David’s neck in his hands and squeeze. “Well, um... do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Uh, about five?” David was already shutting the door, and Kian was a little startled by this discourtesy. Maybe Mark had told David about what had happened. “Look, I’ll see you later...”

Kian placed his hand on the door to stop it from closing. “Could you just tell him I came over then? I’ll come back tomorrow, or he could come round to mine? I just need to...”

“Davey? Are you coming back to...? Oh sorry.”

Kian looked past David as a soft Scottish voice echoed from behind him. A young man Kian had never seen before was stood there, clad in only a sheet, and looking very well-fucked into the bargain. Love bites adorned his broad shoulders and his lips were red and swollen.

“Paul, will you get the fuck back where you came from please?!”

Paul frowned, running his hand through his short blonde-streaked hair. “What’d I...?” He glanced at Kian and frowned, squinting in recognition. “Hey, aren’t you...?”

“Paul!”

Paul rolled his eyes and retreated from the room, muttering as he went. “Only wanted a fucking autograph...”

Kian turned back to David, who was swearing under his breath, and whose face had turned bright red. Kian felt a rush of rage fill him and he glared at David. Wringing his neck was looking very appealing at the moment.

“Paul, huh?”

David flinched. “Look... I... uh... I can explain...”

“Does Mark know?” Kian swore his eyes were turning red now with the irate heat that was building in them.

“Uh...”

“ _Does Mark know?!”_

“No.” It was a whisper, and Kian watched as David’s face crumpled and he ran his hands through his sandy-brown hair. “No.” He said again, finding his voice. “He... he doesn’t. You won’t tell him, will you?”

Disbelief filled Kian as he looked at the man stood in front of him. Not tell Mark? He was his best friend, and he wasn’t supposed to tell him the love of his life was cheating on him? Who did David think he was?

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Kian, _please!_ I can explain this! I can...”

“So explain.”

David’s breath hitched, obviously not expecting his bluff to be called. Kian glared at him and David ducked his head, pulling the door open. “You’d better come in.”

Kian stalked past and sat on the couch, declining the offer of a drink with an angry growl that made David flinch. Kian watched, his eyes burning holes in David’s back as the other man made himself a very strong drink, his hands trembling slightly around the glass and the bottle.

David sat down on the couch, knocking back half the drink as he did. He looked at Kian for a moment, noting the angry hard-set face, before downing the rest of his drink, coughing as the burning liquid flooded his throat. He put down the glass on the table and turned back to Kian, smiling pleadingly.

The begging expression didn’t work and David’s face dropped under Kian’s heavy gaze.

“Why?” Kian snarled, reminded absurdly of six weeks ago when Mark had asked the same question. David stood up, heading for the drink cabinet again, and Kian latched onto his arm, tugging him back to the couch. “Why?” He repeated.

“You... you don’t know how hard it is.” David started slowly, and then all activity stopped as Paul reappeared, now fully clothed, and stomped out the door, slamming it behind him loudly. David took a deep breath and dropped his eyes to watch as his fingers twisted around each other. “You don’t.” He continued. “He... he’s never here and I... I get lonely. I love him, I really do, but he’s gone for months at a time and I...”

“Do you know how much he misses you?” Kian interrupted, trying to stop himself from leaping on David and strangling him. “He’s by himself too, but I’ve never seen him look once at another man.” David dropped his eyes, and Kian could see shame in them. He ploughed ahead. “The girls miss Shane and Nicky too, but they don’t go out and find someone else, do they?”

“No...” David whispered. “I know they don’t but...” He shrugged. “They’re not blokes, are they? They don’t...” He bit his lip as rage swelled up in Kian. “I... I love him.” David continued as Kian went to yell at him again. “But it’s so hard to be in love with him sometimes, you know? He’s all celebrity and I... I don’t even get a look in because... I’m a bloke and nobody can find out. Everybody knows who the girls are and... I’m not looking for fame or anything... but they don’t have to hide, do they?”

“No.” Kian said softly. “But that’s not an excuse. He’s my best mate and you...” He exhaled. “You’re going to tell him.” David looked up in horror and Kian cut him off. “You are.” Kian was surprised at how calm he was. Maybe it was that he could see David’s point. Or maybe he saw this as his way of getting rid of David.

No. He reprimanded himself. This was going to crush Mark and he refused to take advantage. He wouldn’t be the rebound boyfriend; he had far too much respect for Mark, and himself, to do that. He wouldn’t make a move, and he wouldn’t take advantage. Above all he was Mark’s friend, and he was going to act as such.

“Either you tell him, or I do.” Kian finished. “I’m sorry David, but you’ve fucked up here and you have to face the consequences. Maybe Mark will forgive you, and maybe he won’t, but either way you’ve brought this on yourself. I’m sorry. But Mark’s my mate, and I love him too much to see you fuck around on him.”

“Kian, please?” David implored, his eyes desperate and wild. “Please, I’ll stop cheating. I’ll...”

“You shouldn’t have done it in the first place.” Kian growled, the anger returning now at the complete lack of respect David was showing for Mark. This wasn’t something you could fix. “You’ve fucked yourself over here, David. And probably half the gay population of Ireland.” He stood and headed for the door. “You tell him, or I will. You’ve got until tomorrow afternoon, and if you haven’t told him by then, well it’s your problem.”

“Ki... mate...”

“I’m not your fucking mate. I’m Mark’s. Goodbye David.”


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'll be alright.

It was with a certain amount of uneasiness that Kian finally drifted off to sleep that night, thoughts of Mark staying with him until the very end. He had been agonising since returning home, wondering if he’d done the right thing in leaving it to David to tell him. Of course, he would tell Mark the next day if David didn’t, but he still felt guilty for holding onto the secret, even for a day. It was well past midnight that he finally drifted off into a fitful slumber.

He was woken by his phone ringing and, groaning, reached for his bedside table to find it, glancing at the clock as he did. 3:34a.m. Jesus. He checked the screen on his phone, wondering who could be calling at this godforsaken hour.

**MARK** , the screen read, and Kian sat up with a jolt, pressing the accept button and lifting it to his ear.

“Mark?”

“Kian?” Mark’s voice was shaking and Kian could tell he was trying to hold back tears.

“Mark? Are you okay?”

“Yeah... No...” Mark took a trembling breath and Kian felt his heart clench. “Um... Can you come get me? I’m at home, so.”

“I’ll be there in ten.” Kian replied. “Okay?”

Mark let out a sob before composing himself. “Thank you.” The line went dead and Kian quickly grabbed some clothes from his dresser, uncaring for once whether they matched or not. He yanked on a pair of old jeans and tugged on his jacket over the top of a baggy shirt, grabbing his phone and keys and heading for the door.

“Kian?” Kian turned around to see his father standing in his parents’ bedroom doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes and yawning. “What’s going on lad?”

“I’ve gotta go out, be back soon alright?”

“Where...?”

“Mark’s place. He’ll be coming back with me. Sorry to wake you.”

His dad nodded, and Kian dashed out the door as Kevin retreated back into the bedroom. He leapt in the car and pulled out of the drive, not even bothering with his seatbelt. From the way Mark had sounded on the phone... Jesus. David must have taken his advice, at least.

The younger boy was already standing on the doorstep when Kian arrived, and leapt into the car moments later, buckling his seatbelt. Kian stopped the car and looked over at Mark, whose cheeks were flushed and red, his eyes bright with tears. Kian realised with a sick jolt that Mark had been crying, which was unsettling beyond anything else. In all the years Kian had known him, he’d never ever seen Mark cry. He knew he must on occasion, everyone did, but for the evidence to be right there in front of his nose... well he wasn’t used to it; that was for sure.

“Mark?” Kian reached over to brush away a tear that was slowly sliding down Mark’s cheek, the younger boy making no move. “Jesus, Mark, you’re freezing! Here...” He quickly took off his jacket and helped the other boy into it before looking at him again. His eyes were almost glassy, shocked, and Kian sighed, reaching out to stroke Mark’s hair gently, feeling Mark tremble. “Are you alright?”

Mark bit his lip, scrubbing away his tears with the palm of his hand. “Can we just go?” He said quietly, his voice shaking. Kian nodded.

“Yeah.”

The drive home was fairly quick, the streets near deserted at such a late hour. Even though it was a small town the streets were gridlocked during the day as people passed through on their way to other places, but at almost two in the morning it felt so isolated driving back to Kian’s house. The world was so dark and silent, except from the occasional drunken shout from the street in front of the pub.

They pulled up in front of Kian’s house and headed inside, Kian sitting Mark down on the couch while he went to make them both hot chocolate. Mark always said Kian’s hot chocolate was the best comfort food there was, and Mark definitely looked in the mood for comfort.

He carried the two steaming mugs out into the lounge, careful not to spill them, and placed them on the side table. Mark had lain down in the few minutes Kian had been absent from the room and was curled up on his side, his eyes wide open but unseeing, looking more vulnerable and upset than Kian had ever seen him. Kian motioned for Mark to lift his head and he slid underneath, Mark depositing his head in Kian’s lap and allowing the older boy to run his fingers soothingly through the dark strands.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kian asked after a moment’s silence, his other hand making slow circles across Mark’s quivering shoulder. He knew Mark was crying again, there was a decidedly damp patch materialising on Kian’s left leg, but he ignored it, picking at a small knot in Mark’s hair and then smoothing it out, feeling Mark relax slightly under his touch.

Mark shook his head and Kian nodded, forgetting that Mark couldn’t see him with the way they were positioned. “Okay.” He reiterated. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Mark took a deep shuddering breath and turned onto his other side so that his nose and forehead were pressed against Kian’s belly. Any other time Kian would have been burning with lust, but right now he barely registered exactly where Mark’s face was. His only concern was that Mark was hurting.

“He cheated on me.” Mark said after a long moment, his voice so quiet that if Kian hadn’t been listening for it he would have missed it completely. “He cheated on me.” Mark said again, pained wonder filling his voice, as if he was trying to make himself believe it.

“I know.”

“What?” Mark’s voice was shocked, and Kian reprimanded himself. He looked down at Mark, who was staring back with a look of abject hurt. “You... what?” Kian sighed, stroking the back of his hand gently down Mark’s cheek.

“I... I found out today, yesterday, whatever.” He explained quietly. “I caught him... well... you know, at your place. That’s why he told you. I said if he didn’t tell you, then I would. I’m so sorry Marky.”

“Oh.” Mark’s voice was soft, and Kian was surprised that Mark hadn’t just walked out on hearing of Kian’s betrayal in not telling him sooner. But then Mark didn’t do that, did he? “Oh shit.”

“I’m so sorry.” Kian repeated. “I was gonna tell you, honest. I told him he had until this afternoon, but I thought...” He shrugged. “I thought maybe it would be better, you know, if he told you himself.”

“Shit.” Mark said again, his voice soft, and Kian could see tears building up again. Mark rolled back onto his side and pressed his forehead into Kian’s belly again, trying to hide the burgeoning tears. Kian sighed, a lump building in his own throat, and continued stroking Mark’s hair.

“Are you alright?” Kian asked. He knew Mark wasn’t, but he wasn’t really asking that. He was asking ‘are we alright?’ He hoped to god that they were.

“Fuck no.” Mark replied, not a touch of humour in his voice, and Kian paused in the stroking of Mark’s hair. He was relieved when Mark’s hand reached up and took hold of Kian’s, which had formerly been stroking the younger boy’s hip. “I’m not mad at you though. Don’t think I am.”

Kian nodded and squeezed Mark’s hand gently. “So what happens now?”

“I don’t know.” Mark pulled the lower half of his face away long enough to wipe his nose on his own sleeve, before returning to the safe haven of Kian’s stomach. “I’m too tired to think about it yet. It’s all messed up in my head.”

“Well you stay here as long as you need.” Kian replied, bending down hesitantly and placing a gentle kiss on Mark’s temple. Mark seemed to appreciate it and squeezed Kian’s hand. “I made you some hot chocolate. Best drink it before it gets cold.”

Mark nodded and sat up, leaning into the arm Kian placed around his shoulder as he handed Mark his drink. Mark offered a trembling smile and took a sip, smiling as the warm liquid ran soothingly down his throat.

“God that’s good.” Mark said softly, taking another sip. “You’ve gotta teach me to make this one day, you know? It’s the best.”

Kian smiled, taking a mouthful of his own and smiling, cuddling up to Mark a little. “Arh, it’s easy. Just pour in the packet and add warm milk.”

“I know that, you deutz.” Mark replied, laying his head on Kian’s shoulder. “But yours is always so much better. Don’t know how you do it.”

“I’m just generally brilliant.”

“Yeah you are.” Mark agreed seriously, taking another sip. “Thanks Ki. Thanks for... you know... picking me up and all that.” He sighed, and Kian stroked his shoulder as his face crumpled inwards, a tear tumbling down the damp tracks already slicking his face. “Jesus.”

Both drinks were soon finished and Kian collected the mugs, dumping them in the sink for someone else to do, even though he knew his mother would chastise him in the morning. He went back to the lounge and sat next to Mark, patting his shoulder gently as the darker boy let out a yawn.

“Tired?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Mark sniffed drowsily. “What time is it, anyway?”

“About four.” Kian replied glancing at his watch. “Come on. You can have my bed and I’ll have the couch.”

“But I don’t want...”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kian interrupted, patting Mark’s knee gently. The couch’ll be fine for me. And you are the guest.”

Mark nodded. “Fine; I’m too tired to argue.” He stood, wiping his wet face with his sleeve. “I’ll just go use the bathroom.”

Kian detoured to his own bedroom to clear up a bit whilst Mark was in the toilet. He couldn’t do much in the few minutes Mark would be gone, his room did look a bit like a bomb site, but he did his best, shoving clothes in drawers and kicking aside sheet music and other bits and pieces strewn around the room. When Mark returned, Kian’s room was still a mess, but it at least had a pathway leading to the bed.

Mark sat down on the bed and looked around at Kian’s room in askance.

“Have you, by chance, cleaned up in here in the last, oh, twenty-four years?”

Kian snorted and looked around at the bombsite – sorry, bedroom – smiling. “Not that I know of. You’ll have to ask me mam.”

Mark chuckled weakly and shook his head, allowing Kian to sit next to him and pull him into a hug. Mark returned it, burying his head in Kian’s shoulder before reluctantly pulling away and smiling half-heartedly.

“G’night Marky.” Kian said, standing up and pecking his friend lightly on the cheek, tasting salty wetness on his lips when he pulled away. Mark nodded.

“Night Ki.”

An hour and a half later, Kian was curled up on the sofa in his sleeping bag, his mind ablaze with thoughts of Mark. Mark’s eyes, Mark’s face… Mark’s tears. And hadn’t that been the most heartbreaking thing he’d ever seen in his life? For the millionth time Kian wished he could strangle David for hurting Mark like that, although a not indistinct part of him was glad David had told the truth. Kian hadn’t been looking forward to telling Mark himself, for being the one to cause those tears.

Crying. Mark. The two words didn’t seem to fit somehow. And Kian wanted to kill David for being the first one to make Mark do it. Of course he’d always assumed Mark did cry on occasion. But to see it happening was... well, heartbreaking.

He suddenly became aware of the sound of socks padding across carpet and surreptitiously opened one eye to watch the kitchen light blink on and Mark disappear inside. He heard the sound of glasses being moved and the tap run for a second, and decided to continue pretending to sleep. Mark was just getting a drink. But, minutes later, when Mark still hadn’t reappeared, he dropped all pretence and crawled out of his sleeping bag, blinking in the harsh kitchen light.

“Mark?”

Mark was sitting at the kitchen table, toying with his half full glass, but looked up, startled, when his name was called.

“Oh sorry, Ki.” He swallowed back what sounded like a fresh round of tears. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.” Kian assured him, pouring himself a glass of juice and sitting across from Mark, who went back to playing with his glass. “Couldn’t sleep.” Kian added, taking a sip from his drink.

“Yeah. Me neither.” Mark replied quietly, dipping his finger in the glass and sucking the water off it. “Couldn’t sleep.” Mark repeated, running his damp finger around the edge of the glass. Kian stayed silent, knowing Mark would talk if he wanted to.

“I mean, two years.” Mark said finally, running his blunt nails nervously down his arm before going back to his glass. “Two years he’d been doing it, and I never noticed. You’d think I would have, you know, but I never ever did.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. We’d been fighting more than normal lately, but I never suspected... he always seemed happy to see me, but maybe...” He shook himself, running his hand through his bed-ruffled hair. “I don’t know. Maybe I was just blinded.” He looked up at Kian. “Did you ever...?”

“Notice anything?” Mark nodded, biting his lip nervously. “No.” Kian said honestly, looking Mark straight in the eye. He hadn’t ever thought so, and he should know, he’d spent enough time watching them. Mark was right. David did always seem happy when he was with Mark. But then he thought back to what David had said. “I love him. But it’s so hard to be in love with him sometimes.” Maybe David had loved Mark, did love Mark, but it had developed into more of a friendship than anything.

A friend that would put out.

Kian swallowed the anger rising in his throat. No. If David had loved Mark he wouldn’t have used him like that, done that to him. Kian knew he sure as hell wouldn’t have; had he been Mark’s boyfriend.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked. “I mean I sort of got the impression you didn’t like him. The other day...”

Kian cut him off. “Forget about the other day. I was having a shit day and took it out on you. I didn’t mean anything I said. I do like David. Did like him.” He amended. “I’m sorry for that. Been fucking miserable with guilt for the past few days. Surprised you rang me, really.” He finished his ramble, scratching his nose awkwardly with his index finger.

“You’re still me mate.” Mark said, reaching over to pat Kian’s arm. “Anyway, Shane’s number was busy and Ro’s out of town.”

“I deserved that.” Mark nodded, swallowing the last of his water. “But if you wanna know if I noticed anything, the answer is no. I always thought you were the perfect couple. Even if you were prone to shagging on the bus.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Mark sighed, ignoring the last comment. “But...” He continued. “I still love him, you know? Even after all that. I loved him for six years, I can’t just turn it off. It’s all I can do to stop myself going back and forgiving him.

Kian nodded, but deep inside he was dying. Mark couldn’t possibly want to go back to that... fucker. But then he supposed that love was like that. You wanted to believe in it, no matter what the other person had done. He knew he’d have trouble not forgiving Mark for something like that.

“I guess I just think he made a mistake, so...” Mark pushed his glass away, the scrape against the wood stark in the almost silent kitchen. “We’ve all made them. Like with you in Dublin. I’m not completely blameless.”

“Mark...” Kian had had enough of being the agreeable friend. He wasn’t going to let Mark dig himself into a hole. “Can I tell you what I think?”

Mark nodded, looking anxiously at Kian.

“He cheated on you.” He cut Mark off as he went to interrupt, ploughing ahead. “For two years. You almost kissed me, once, when you were drunk. There’s a difference. You didn’t mean to do it; he was consciously doing it, and more than once.” He took Mark’s hand over the table and stroked it gently, realising the other boy was close to tears. “What would you tell me to do if I was in your position?”

Mark thought for a moment, chewing his lower lip. “I’d kill him.” He said finally, looking up at Kian, his eyes flashing. “But that’s different.”

“No. It’s not.” Kian interrupted, squeezing Mark’s hand. “What would happen if you did forgive him? You’d go back the way things were before?”

Mark nodded tearfully, looking towards the window where the sun was just rising, decorating the sky with flashes if pink and yellow. “You’re right.” He shook his head. “Jesus. This time yesterday we were lying in bed, not a care in the fucking world and now...” Kian squeezed his hand. “Was I naïve to think things were always going to be perfect?”

“No…” Kian reassured him gently. “I think everyone wants to believe that. You’ll be alright though. You’ll stay here with me, and then we’ll go back to work and things will go back to normal eventually.” He smiled wryly. “Or whatever qualifies as normal for us. We’re your friends, don’t forget that. I’ll… we’ll always be here.”

“I know.” Mark nodded, squeezing Kian’s hand in return. “Thank you.”

Kian smiled. “Pleasure’s all mine.”


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark was always warm

They didn’t bother going to bed after that, there didn’t seem to be any point as it was already five-thirty in the morning by the time they finally picked themselves up from the kitchen table. Instead they went and sat outside, Mark insisting he needed a smoke, and Kian replying that they couldn’t do it inside with two kids in the house, his mam would go mad. They sat out on the porch swing together, watching the sun come up.

“Thought you were cutting back.” Kian asked as Mark took a particularly enthusiastic drag on his cigarette, closing his eyes as the smoke filled his lungs.

Mark blew a small smoke ring into the air and Kian watched it float for a second before dissipating. “Yeah.” Mark replied, tapping some ash over the porch rail and onto the grass. “Needed it though. Haven’t had one for a few hours.” He shrugged. “Good for stress.” He smiled sadly, holding the cigarette in his mouth and running his fingers through his hair.

“Bry’s lost a lot of weight without them, though. He’s looking tons better.” Mark mumbled something around his cigarette. Kian looked up at him. “What?”

“Sorry.” Mark replied, taking it out of his mouth. “I said: The thing that’s losing Bryan weight is the lack of bacon sarnies. And booze. Don’t know how he copes without the odd drink really. Used to be like a fish, that man.”

“I know.” Kian shook his head. “I sure as hell couldn’t do it.” Mark stubbed the cigarette out and threw it on the grass. Kian gave him a glare. “Oi! Don’t leave that on me mam’s lawn.”

“Sorry. I’ll pick it up before we go in.” Mark said. He sat back in his chair, leaning his head against the post connecting the chair to the ceiling. “Do you remember when I slept over that time, and you and me sat out here to watch the sun come up, and it was all foggy? What were we? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

“Fourteen.” Kian nodded. He remembered it well. It was one of the items in the little box in his head of ‘Mark Memories’. “And then we went back in, mam went mental because we were all wet from wrestling on the grass.”

“That’s right. And then she made us stand outside in the cold until we dried off. And then it started raining.”

Kian laughed, remembering. “God yes. That was a classic. It was absolutely freezing, though. And neither of us was wearing a jacket.”

“No, you had a jacket, but you gave it to me cos you said you weren’t that cold. Then you spent the next ten minutes complaining that you were shivering and getting goosebumps.”

“Oh yeah...” Kian said wonderingly. He’d forgotten all about that part of the memory. “It really was cold though.” He shivered, remembering how cold it had been, goosebumps breaking out on his arms.

“You cold?” Mark noticed the shiver and Kian shook his head.

“Nah... I’m good.”

Mark reached out and touched his cheek with the back of his hand. Kian automatically pushed into it. Mark was really warm. He always was.

“Jesus, you’re freezing.” Mark pursed his lips and began to shrug out of his coat. “Here, take this.” He said, draping it around Kian’s shoulders. “You’ll catch your death.”

“Oh don’t w...” Kian gave up as Mark began buttoning it. “Thanks.” He conceded, cupping his hands together and blowing hot breath between them to heat them up. “You sure?” He asked, tucking his still-cold hands between his knees.

“Sure. Returning the favour, hey?”

“Oh, my knight in shining armour.” Kian sniggered, undoing a few buttons so he could press his hands inside the coat, shivering when his freezing palms chilled his stomach through the thick pullover he wore.

“Shut up.” Mark replied. “You’re still cold, aren’t you?”

“Just a bit.” Kian admitted. “It’s my hands more than anything, really.”

Mark motioned for him to move closer and Kian did, letting his hands be tucked into Mark’s jacket, the contrast of the body heat making him shiver. “God, you are cold.” Mark said, reaching out to wrap one arm around Kian’s shoulders. “Come here.”

Kian moved closer, allowing himself to be pulled into Mark’s embrace. Mark was always freakishly warm, and Kian had always loved that about him. And that, coupled with the fact that he was just plain lovely, always meant that he was the best at giving hugs. Kian sighed, leaning back into Mark.

“Better?” Mark said softly, and Kian had to hold back the shudder that went through him as hot breath brushed his ear

“Yeah. I’ve always got cold hands. It’s weird.”

“Ah, you know what they say. Cold hands, warm heart.” Kian smiled. If that was true, Mark by rights should have hands made of ice. “Kian?”

“Yeah?”

“Um... thank you. For picking me up and, y’know, talking to me. I just... I know I’m not in the best state right now and I’m sorry if I’m a bit of a wet blanket.”

“Oh... Mark...” Kian turned and pulled Mark into a hug, holding him tight. Mark bit his lip and rested his head on Kian’s shoulder. “That’s okay. You’re not a wet blanket. You would’ve done the same for me, hey?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded into Kian’s shoulder and Kian gave him a last squeeze before pulling back and resuming his position with Mark’s arms around him. “Thanks Ki. You really are the best.”

“Oh I know.” Kian joked, trying to clear the tense atmosphere. “Should’ve gone out with me instead. We’d be living in happily married bliss.”

There was a long pause. “Well, I would’ve.” Mark said finally, his voice stuttering slightly. “I mean... really I would’ve. But you weren’t gay then, were you and I...” He paused for a moment and Kian could tell he was thinking about something. “I... can’t believe I’m about to tell you this, but I had the biggest crush on you in school.”

Oh. Kian’s heart dropped through the porch and into the soil below.

“Really?” He tried to make his voice sound flippant, normal. Inside he was shaking so much he could barely control it.

“Ohhhhh yeah.” Mark laughed. “It was pathetic really, now that I think about it. I was so hung up on you for ages. That was why I joined the musicals in the first place, I think. I couldn’t have been more desperate if I’d stood there with a huge sign attached to my head saying ‘Notice Me!’ It was shocking.”

“How come you never told me?” Kian asked, pulling away slightly. He felt hurt, even though he knew he shouldn’t. Mark hadn’t done anything wrong, not really.

“I was twelve. It was a bit weird for a twelve year old to go up to someone – a guy of all people, and a homophobic prick at that – and say, ‘oh yeah, I just happen to think you’re the most amazing person on the planet and I think I’m in love with you.’ I mean, come on, Kian.”

“But after we were friends...”

“Again, homophobic prick angle.” Mark interrupted. “You would have killed me. It didn’t bear thinking about really.”

“I was...” Kian shook his head. “I actually would’ve preferred it if you’d told me.” He shrugged. “I was only like that because I was confused. I figured if I hated gay people, I couldn’t possibly be one myself, could I? I would have liked someone to talk to. After I killed you of course.”

Kian felt Mark nod and then a rounded chin landed against his temple. He pushed back into it.

“We really are complete fuckheads, aren’t we?” Mark said finally. “Twelve years and we only just admit this to each other. Nice.”

“Oh I know.” Kian replied. “Absolute fuckheads.” He pulled out of Mark’s embrace and stood up. “I’m gonna make myself a cup of tea, if you want one?”

Mark nodded and Kian stepped back through to the kitchen, looking absently for the tea through the tears that filled his eyes. Who was he kidding? He didn’t give a toss about the fucking tea. He just needed to get away from Mark, who was warm and nice and caring and... had had a fucking crush on him. Kian shook his head. He had really missed the boat there, hadn’t he? Except it wasn’t a boat. It was a fucking warship that got just far enough away from shore to turn and blast the shit out of him with its big fucking cannons.

He stuck the water on to boil while he hunted for the tea, but just as he found it he felt tears pricking at his eyes and a lump building in his throat. Grasping the box of tea bags in both hands he sank to the floor, his back against the cupboard doors as he cried into Mark’s warm black coat.

The kettle began to whistle and he stood up with a start, still crying, but not wanting to wake anyone with the noise. He moved the kettle off the stove and reached for some cups, wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his hand as he dropped the teabags in, pouring the hot water over them.

He added the milk and sugar (tons of both for Mark) and put them on a tray, putting it to the side as he splashed his face with water from the kitchen tap, almost yelping as he realised just how cold it was. He dried his face with a hopefully clean tea towel and then picked the tray up again, heading back out onto the porch.

Mark was sat there, his chin buried in his knees, looking like he was trying not to cry himself. Kian put the tray down on the small garden table and pulled him into a hug, stroking his back as Mark turned and buried his Kian’s shoulder, his whole body heaving.

“Marky... hey...” Kian was trying to be comforting, he really was, but right at that second, he hated Mark almost as much as he loved him.

“Sorry.” Mark said finally, pulling away and accepting the hot mug Kian offered him. “Thanks. God. Bloody memories.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kian asked, one arm around Mark’s shoulders while the other lifted his mug to his lips.

Mark smiled sadly. “Oh... was just thinking. Me and David we used to...” He sniffed hard. “Um... we always used to sit out on the porch, y’know. Cup of tea. It was lovely, but now...” He shrugged. “Sorry Kian. I’m going on. Gotta stop thinking about him, don’t I? It’s all gone now.”

“It hasn’t even been a day.” Kian replied, tugging Mark a little bit closer and feeling like a bastard. “You talk if you want.”

Mark nodded, lifting his mug to his lips with both hands. “I... well I know it sounds stupid, but that’s the first time he told me he loved me. It was four years ago. We’d not gone to sleep the night before, we were... well, you can imagine.” Mark smirked sadly and Kian had to stop himself from scowling. Yes he bloody well could imagine. “Anyway for some reason we never went to sleep after. We went out on the porch instead. It was lovely. The sun hadn’t come up yet, and there was this really cold breeze but we took a blanket out with us and hot chocolate and... yeah. Then he told me.”

Mark sighed, pressing back into Kian’s touch. “God it was... it was the best. Really Kian, you have no idea. Then we... well... again. On the loveseat.” Kian felt Mark blush, and suspected his own face was just as red, but for a different reason. “And then later that day I left for the tour.”

Kian could remember that. Mark had gone between completely wistful and being an utter ratbag for the first couple of weeks.

“And then...” Mark continued. “That... was the last place he told me. Yesterday morning before I left for my mam’s. But that meant jack shit, didn’t it? Because he was probably only out there so he could greet one of his...” Mark trailed off, shrugging, and Kian felt his anger fade as he squeezed Mark tightly, stroking up and down his side. Mark leant into the touch.

“Fuck.” Mark said after a moment. “Fuck Kian. What am I gonna do?”

“You’re gonna move on and be happy.” Kian replied, stroking Mark’s hair gently. “And don’t spare a thought for him. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re gonna show him.”

“That’s easier said than done.” Mark snorted. “I just... I don’t think I can forget about him. It’s this place. Sligo. Too many memories.”

“So what then?”

“I don’t know.” Mark said after a minute. “I think I need to go away for awhile. Forget everything. This has really knocked me sideways, Ki. I just need some time to get my head back together.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No.” Mark shook his head. “It needs to be just me. I love you, Ki, you’re my best mate, but you know what I’m like. I need a bit of time to myself to like... regroup. Y’know?”

“Yeah.” Kian kissed his cheek gently, tightening his grip as Mark’s face screwed up in thought. “When do you want to go?”

“God knows.” Mark said. “Tomorrow maybe? I’ll take the jet, go somewhere tropical. It’ll be good for me. Never know, might pick up a nice local lad and have a bit of a rebound.” He was only joking, but Kian didn’t care. What if Mark did find someone else? That’d be the warship firing fucking nukes. He forced a laugh though.

“Yeah.” He said after a minute. “But you know if you wanna talk, we’re only a phone-call away? And I’m happy to catch a plane out to wherever you are. Just ring up and ask and I’ll be there in a flash.”


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His jacket still smelled like Mark

Kian dragged Mark’s suitcases out of the house and into the car. He’d rung up David the day before to check that he wouldn’t be home so they could come pick up some of Mark’s stuff. But even without David there, Mark still refused to go into the house. It had too many memories, he said, and he wasn’t able to face it. He’d already decided David could keep it if he wanted. Mark could sure as hell buy another one, couldn’t he? Kian suspected David wouldn’t keep it though, it was a fucking enormous house, and it was doubtful that David would be able to afford the expenses on his own. Maybe he could get his old job back at Burger King.

He snorted. He remembered when Mark had worked there, complaining that it was a completely futureless job with nonexistent wages. David deserved it, while Mark got to be a world-famous millionaire with a successful singing career. He liked that twist of fate.

He gave the enormous bags one last shove before slamming the trunk shut over them, wincing as it bounced back up with a metallic clunk. The Ferrari was not built for luggage. He pressed it down again, nodding at the satisfactory click the lock made, and made his way around to the driver’s seat, sliding in and doing up his seatbelt.

“You ready?” He asked, twisting around in his seat so he could safely back out of the driveway.

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, leaning down to look up at the house through the windscreen while Kian pulled out into the road. He moved back to sit in his seat as it disappeared from sight. “Thanks Ki, for getting my stuff. And for the lift to the airport.”

“No worries. I’m just jealous that you’re going to Hawaii without me. Get to lie on the beach all day and get toasted...” He sighed. “I hate you, Mark.”

“I know.” Mark smiled, leaning over to flick through the CDs in the compartment between the seats. “God, Ki... don’t you have any decent music?”

“I have plenty of it.” Kian replied. “And that’s why I don’t have any Mariah Carey.”

Mark punched him lightly, not too hard because he was driving. “Shut up, you know what I mean. Don’t you have anything without swearing or screaming in it?” He flicked through once more before coming up with one and smirking. “The Lion King?”

“I like it.” Kian said defensively, happy that Mark was in a joking mood. “Anyway... Mariah Carey.”

“At least she’s human.”

“Only about two percent, mate. The rest is pure silicone.”

Mark punched him again, just hard enough to hurt. Kian reached over and ruffled his hair in retaliation, grinning as Mark yelped and smoothed it out.

“Bastard.”

Kian snorted. “Prick.”

“Arsehole.”

“Dickhead.”

Mark laughed. “Wanker.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Mark screwed up his face in disgust. “Come on, you never have a bit of tug in your hotel room on those lonely nights?”

“...Maybe.” Mark admitted finally. “But that doesn’t mean I need to hear about it.”

“Oh, you love it.” Kian teased. Mark snorted and they sat in silence until they reached the airport, both of them turning to smile at each other every few seconds.

 

*

 

“Oh... gotta go.” Mark stood as his flight was called, and pulled Kian into a hug. “I’ll see you later, Ki.”

“Yeah.” Kian patted him on the back and then pulled back, holding him by the upper arms so he could look up at him. “You have fun okay? Get tanned and gorgeous and then come back and tease me because I look all white and pasty."

“You know I don’t tan, you bastard.” Mark replied, pulling Kian back into another hug. “I’ll ring you crazy lot when I get there, tell you what’s happening.”

“Okay.” Kian kissed his cheek and then pushed him away. “Now go, you great deutz.”

“Kay.” Mark forced a grin, but it contained so much of the eternal misery and despair from last night that it was heartbreaking to look at. Mark hefted his bag on his shoulder before turning into the crowd. Kian waved and then turned, heading back towards the entrance. He spun back though, as a voice echoed over the heads of the crowd.

“See you later, wanker!”

Kian turned, jumping so he could see Mark’s head. “Goodbye, you prude!”

 

*

 

“So it’s good there?” Kian asked, holding the phone against his ear with his shoulder as he flipped the eggs in the pan. Mark had been gone for four days now, and Kian was missing him like crazy. Mark seemed to be enjoying himself though, even if he was prone to the odd bout of depression when the memories took over.

“Oh, it’s great!” Mark replied. “Sun, sand, sea. Lots of sunscreen.” He sighed. “Too bad I’m not enjoying it, hey?”

“How come?” Kian flipped the eggs out of the pan and onto a plate, shaking salt over them.

“I dunno, it’s just... I can’t think. Like, I came away so I could think but I’m... it’s still hard. It’s always too quiet, or too loud, or... and there’s all these hot guys on the beach and all can think of is him. Like there was this guy at the bar last night, and he was coming onto me and we were flirting or whatever, but he just... he wasn’t David. So I made an excuse and ended up sitting alone in my room all night.” Mark sighed. “Shit, Kian.”

“Hey...” Kian said softly, anger filling him for not the first time that David could have done this to Mark. He just sounded so miserable. “Hey... oh Mark...” Mark began to sniff quietly and Kian felt his heart clench. “It’s to be expected. You just broke up. Nobody expects you to be back on the scene again or anything. Just lie low. Do what you want to do. If you want to go out and shag round, you do that.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said that! “And if you don’t, don’t. This is supposed to be about you enjoying yourself.”

“I know.” Mark sighed. “Jesus, you’re right. I wish you were here.”

“I can be.” Kian put a slice of fried egg in his mouth but realised he had left it too long and it was now cold. “You just say the word and I’ll be on the next plane.”

There was a pause, and Kian could hear him breathing softly on the other end. He sat back, putting the eggs on the side, waiting for the verdict.

“Yeah.” Mark said finally. “Yeah. If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Course it’s not.” Kian stood up in a sudden burst of energy, dumping the eggs in the bin and heading for his room to pack. “I’ll pack now and grab the next plane I can get organised.”

“Kian... thank you. Jesus. Thank you.”

“That’s okay. Speak soon.”

“Yeah.”

Kian disconnected the call and pressed the speed dial for Jake. “Hey Jake, can you get me the next flight to Hawaii? Wherever Mark is. Okay thanks.” He hung up and dragged out the suitcase under his bed that he kept there in case of emergency flights like this. He quickly began stuffing clothes in, not worried if they were getting creased or not. What the fuck did he care? Mark needed him.

He zipped the suitcase a total of five minutes later, after an agonising three minutes deciding which jacket to pack. In the end he put one on and shoved the other in his suitcase. He was sweltering, and so was Hawaii, come to that, but he’d decided. He needed both. They were for different occasions.

And the one he was wearing smelt like Mark, but that wasn’t the point.

The plane trip was long and boring. Kian spent most of it dredging up every single little piece of history he and Mark shared, going over it in his mind. After about the first six hours he ran out of things, so instead invented impassioned declarations of love that would make Mark fall for him immediately. Then he decided he was acting like a girl and watched an in-flight action movie, with a suitably masculine level of explosions, guns, and terribly profound one-liners.

The heat hit Kian even before he left the airport. It was boiling out there, the heat billowing through the automatic doors as he waited for his luggage, and the sun glaring through the tinted glass. He was sweating profusely before he even reached the taxi-rank, and breathed a sigh of relief in the cab’s air-conditioning. The trip between the cab and the hotel was shorter, but equally terrible, and he was happy when the doors shut behind him and he reached into his pocket for his mobile.

Mark was downstairs less than five minutes later, pulling Kian into a hug, welcome even though Kian was tired and sticky with sweat and airplane-filth.

“Thanks for coming.”

Kian nodded exhaustedly and followed Mark into the elevator and up to his room, crashing out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Some faraway part of his brain registered Mark tugging his shoes and jeans off and pulling the blanket over him. Kian smiled, rolling into a ball and letting sleep take him.

When he woke it was dark outside, the moon a shining orb in the sky. He blinked for a second, trying to remember where he was, but then caught sight of Mark sitting in a chair nearby, the telly on.

“Hey.” He winced at the croakiness in his voice and tried again. “Hey.”

Mark tore his gaze away from the TV and twisted to look at Kian. “Hey. You awake? You were knackered.”

“Yeah.” Kian wasn’t sure which question he was replying to, but decided it really didn’t matter in the end. He shrugged to himself and crawled over to the end of the bed, smiling as Mark came to sit with him. “What are you watching?”

“Some American Bloopers show.”

“Any good?”

“No.” Mark reached for the remote and turned the television off, smirking smugly at the blank screen. “American television’s terrible. Do you want a shower?”

Kian grimaced, running his hand through his greasy hair. This was the reason he most hated planes. You always felt so tired and filthy after getting off them. It was awful.

“Yeah. Hate planes.”

“Kay.” Mark quickly showed him where the soap and shampoo was and Kian leapt in, letting the hot water soothe his cramped muscles. He groaned, stretching out his arms and tipping his head forward, the water thundering over every inch of his skin. It was with great satisfaction that he dried himself off and dressed in fresh boxers and a tee, lying back on the bed when he was done.

“Ooph.” He grunted when Mark’s head landed on his shoulder, the younger boy’s arm coming around his waist. “Hey.” He murmured, hugging Mark back and kissing his forehead. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” Mark replied. “No. Kinda. I’m... better. Thanks for coming, Ki.”

“You’re very welcome.” Kian said, stroking Mark’s hair. “I needed a tan anyway, so thanks for inviting me.”

“My pleasure.” Mark chuckled. Kian laughed in response to the playful slap Mark gave him.

“What’s the time?”

“Erm...” Mark checked his watch. “About nine. You hungry?”

Kian’s stomach rumbled and they both laughed.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Come on. Pub time.”

 

*

 

 

“So.” Kian started, finally breaking the silence that had settled over the table like fog. Mark looked up from where he was fiddling with his napkin, his mind obviously preoccupied, and Kian offered him a smile. “Uh... so how are things?”

“Oh, you know.” Mark shrugged, looking back down at the napkin, tearing off a small corner of the paper and dropping it on the floor, then starting on another. “You know how it is.”

“Do I?”

“What, you’ve never broken up before?” Mark snapped, his eyes blazing and making Kian balk at the guarded glare. But it just as quickly disappeared, and Mark sighed, looking suddenly defeated. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly. “That wasn’t fair.” 

“Who cares about fair?” Kian forced out, reaching out to touch Mark’s hand and wondering how he was still falling in love with Mark with every second that passed. He’d thought that he’d fallen as far as it was possible to go; but here he was, wanting to gather Mark into his arms and hold him until Mark said it was all okay. “Marky, it’s okay to be feeling like you are.”

“What, like I’d rather sleepwalk over the hotel balcony than wake up in the morning?” Mark replied, the haunted look in his eyes suddenly more pronounced than ever. Kian touched his hand, as if it would stop Mark from becoming a human-shaped splat on the concrete. “I just... I feel as if the carpet’s been ripped out from under me. Like there’s nothing behind me, and nothing ahead and I’m just floating in the middle of nothing. And it fucking kills me, you know, that I didn’t even know. That he could do this to me. Because I loved him. I fucking _loved_ him. He was mine and I was his, except he wasn’t fucking mine, was he? He was the... the Sligo bike. The Ireland bike. The bastard was probably shagging around the entire continent and the thing is, I still love him and I can’t get that out of my head because for every moment that he did that to me there are a million other moments that I want to keep. It’s like I need him in my head, all those perfect little things he did, and it hurts so much that I can’t even have them without thinking of him... fucking some other random guy. Some guy I don’t even know had what was supposed to be mine. It was _mine_. And everything, all my memories, all the time I’ve spent loving him and missing him, it was all for nothing because not for a second was it worth it. Because he never felt the same way about me, did he? Oh no, he was too busy reaming the arse of some pretty cocktease that was right there and obviously worth more to him than I was.” Mark paused for breath, panting slightly, tears filling his enormous blue eyes and heaving with so much pain that Kian wanted to walk over a balcony himself, just so he didn’t have to see that. Mark smiled slowly, an empty, sharklike smirk.

“But, you know, no harm done, right? It was only six years, y’know. I’ll get over it. I’ve got the rest of my fucking _life_ ahead of me.”

“Marky.” Kian whispered, more to himself than his friend, who was hunched so low over the table he was practically kissing it. Mark’s shoulders heaved, once, twice, and then began to shake, Kian’s heart matching them. “Mark, oh.” He breathed, reaching out to touch one trembling shoulder and not removing it when Mark jerked with surprise. “Maybe we should go back to the hotel, yeah? We can talk there.”

“I don’t want to.” Mark shot back, looking up at Kian with eyes like stone. “I... I don’t need to go back there and think about it. I want to... I want to forget about it, Ki. I don’t want to be... sitting here... fucking crying over...” His voice trailed off and he stood up suddenly, heading straight for the bar. Kian watched, confused, until he returned, balancing a stack of shots in his hands, and dumped them on the table.

“Race ya.” Mark grinned, and Kian stared at him in disbelief. Mark stared back, his eyes begging. “Please, Ki.” He forced out. “Just... can we have fun for a couple of hours and forget it? I just want it to be like it was. Just you and me having fun, like normal. Please.”

“I don’t know if you should be getting drunk right now.” Kian hedged tentatively.

“I need to.” Mark’s gaze was devastatingly honest. “Please.”

Kian sighed, making a mental note to lock the balcony door.

 

*

 

Mark’s face was like thunder when they got back into the lift, both staggering helplessly. Mark because of the amount he’d drunk and Kian because he was trying desperately to prop up Mark’s much heavier weight. Finally inside, Kian managed to lean Mark up against the mirrored wall, but then had to grab him again when he threatened to slide down it. 

“I just can’t... can’t believe that fucking bas...tard...” Mark slurred blearily. “It’s... bastard... ever... never ever again and don’t think that I... prick.”

“I know, he’s a bastard.” Kian said sympathetically, hoisting Mark’s arm back over his shoulder when the doors dinged open again. “Come on. We can talk about it inside.”

“I love him so fucking... much.” Mark sniffed, and Kian felt he was carrying a string bag filled with jelly. Mark kept slipping out of his grip, and as soon as one leg seemed to be going in the right direction, everything else fell to pieces. Kian grunted, hauling him the last few steps to the door.

“In you get.” He said cheerfully, inwardly cursing Mark’s sudden inability to walk. They finally made it inside, and Kian left Mark lying on the bed while he went to lock the balcony door. When he turned around, Mark was already sprawled on his back and snoring, so he jumped in the shower, knowing it was the last chance he’d have tonight, regardless of how much he wanted to watch Mark sleep.

Once he was clean, he leant against the bathroom door, watching Mark sleep. He seemed to be taking up as much space on the bed as was humanly possible, but to Kian he looked small and lonely and frightened. Choking back the lump in his throat, Kian dropped the towel on the tiles and crossed the room until he was able to sit on the bed, carefully so as not to wake Mark. The younger boy didn’t even flinch so, his eyes fixed on the slowly trembling lashes, Kian lay down next to him, resting his head gently on his friend’s shoulder.

“Mm.” Mark muttered in his sleep, and Kian was about to sit up again when Mark suddenly flipped over, trapping Kian with a surprisingly heavy arm. Trying not to hyperventilate, Kian lay frozen and rigid while Mark snuggled up to him, his nose brushing Kian’s throat. 

Mark let out a deep sigh, his hand groping gently for Kian’s hip and finding it, pushing his t-shirt slightly to the side so that Mark’s hot, firm grip tightened on bare skin. He was making little mumbling noises in his throat, and the warmth from his body seemed to be accumulating in Kian’s groin.

“Turn out the light, David. Wanna sleep, babe.” Mark mumbled suddenly. The warmth filling Kian’s body abruptly turned to ice, and he wriggled out of Mark’s grip, tears building in his throat. Still, after all that had happened, Mark was completely in love with David. Or had Kian forgotten? He’d just been skipping along, sure that Mark would come to his senses and fall abruptly in love with him. What was he, fucking stupid?

“Mark.” Kian said, his voice harder than he meant it to be. “Get your clothes off. Into bed.” Rolling Mark to the side, he stripped him with little assistance and covered him with a blanket, feeling too angry at himself to even glance at Mark in his boxers. Then he clicked off the light and climbed into bed, yanking the blankets roughly over his own head.


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How fantastically embarrassing.

“Oh Kian…” Mark murmured, his voice breathless and rough as he writhed slowly underneath Kian. Moaning, Kian shifted on the chair, wrapping his legs around Mark’s waist and the wooden back. He braced himself on Mark’s broad shoulders, feeling Mark’s thick hardness digging deeper and deeper into him as he rocked. Mark’s cheeks glowed in the golden light of the candles, sweat-slick glistening above full, engorged lips that parted wetly when Kian ground down again, Mark’s head lolling back on a long, sensuous neck that Kian had to taste, scooping hot salt onto his tongue and dragging it up to Mark’s mouth. Kissing him slowly and deeply until Mark let out a long groan and heat surged into Kian’s thrusting, rolling body.

Then, closing his eyes against the onslaught of sensation, Kian came too.

When he opened his eyes, his skin was damp with sweat, come coating his own stomach. But Mark was snoring in the other bed. He blinked, confused, and then groaned when he realised what he’d done.

How fantastically embarrassing.

Grimacing at the feel of his damp, crusty boxers, he forced himself into a sitting position and dragged the blankets over the sheets, hoping the maids would show some discretion. Then he stood and grabbed some clothes from his open suitcase.

“Kino… whatchu… doin…”

Dammit, he’d thought he’d made it all the way to the bathroom without Mark noticing. He didn’t turn around, just kept sidling closer to the bathroom, waiting til he was all the way in before poking just his head through the door. Mark squinted sleepily at him, his head slightly raised.

“Going to the toilet, Marky. Go back to sleep.”

“Okay.” Mark muttered, scrubbing his tearstained face with his palm before falling suddenly and deeply asleep. Kian breathed a sigh of relief.

When he came back out, feeling physically cleaner, but just as emotionally dirty, Mark’s eyes were barely open, and he was letting out little groaning sighs.

“Feel… sick…”

“Not surprised, with how much you drank.” Kian smirked, trying not to let the worry and pity invade his voice. Friends laughed at their hung-over mates, they didn’t try to coddle them. “You need a bucket or anything?”

“Need… aspirin.”

Going back the way he’d come, Kian filled a glass in the bathroom sink, grabbing a bottle of aspirin off the counter. He helped Mark sit up, and pressed the glass and a couple of pills into Mark’s hands, propping Mark against him so he didn’t topple and spill the water. Mark took the pills, then coughed, groaning.

“How much… did… I drink…?”

“How much can you fit into a truck?”

“Ohh…” Mark groaned, burying his face deep into the pillow and pressing his hands to his ears. “I feel awful…”

“I can see that.” Kian muttered, collapsing next to Mark and sighing at the exact moment that Mark’s arm swung over and forced more air out of his lungs. They shared a pained grimace. Mark snuggled in closer, leg hooking Kian’s, his face buried in Kian’s neck. Warm, wet breaths moistened Kian’s shoulder, making him shiver.

“Shh.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Kian whispered back.

“I know. You’re making noises. Stop it.”

Kian lay completely still, a hand hooked around the arm on his chest. “I’m not.”

“You are.” Mark argued mildly, wincing. “You must be able to breathe a little quieter?”

Kian chuckled. “Do you want me to stop breathing entirely?”

“It’d be nice.” Mark moaned. “Oh god.”

“Nah, it’s Kian actually.”

“Shut up. Ow.” Mark’s nose butted Kian’s ear when the younger boy jerked in pain, fingers squeezing Kian’s arm sporadically. “Oh. God.”

“Want me to leave you alone for awhile? I could go get breakfast?”

“No. God, no. Don’t move.” Kian was feeling a little proud that Mark seemed to want him so much, until Mark added: “I can’t stand the noise. It’s quieter if you stay put.”

“Alright.” Kian breathed, stroking up and down Mark’s arm and feeling the pained snarl of lips against his skin. “Sorry.” He muttered, resting his arm as quietly on Mark’s waist as he could.

“God, why didn’t you stop me drinking so much?”

Kian sighed, going to rub Mark’s arm again before thinking better of it. “You didn’t seem to want to be stopped.”

“Yeah. That’s probably true.” Mark mumbled. “I feel shit enough, and now I’ve got this on top of it. Nice.”

“Tell you what…” Kian whispered. “How about I very quietly ring room service and get them to bring up a nice fried breakfast, with loads of grease and salt and pepper…”

“I’d die for some bacon.”

“Eggs?”

“The whole bit.” Mark’s smile faded into a grimace, accompanied by a soft moan. “Oh god, my head.”

“And some water as well.”

Mark’s eyes closed and, deciding his friend had died again, Kian carefully slipped his arm out from under him and reached for the phone.

Room service were impressively speedy. Kian was in the bathroom, shaving, not five minutes later, when there was a knock on the door. He put down the razor and went to answer it, sure that Mark wouldn’t be in any state to move for the next few years.

“You look like shit.” He said, carrying the tray to the bed.

“Thanks.” Mark coughed, then winced, letting Kian drag him into a sitting position and put the tray in his lap. “You look like Santa.”

Kian laughed as quietly as he could, not having forgotten the shaving foam that was still spread all over his face. He went to wash it off, and when he came back Mark was tucking into his breakfast with gusto, looking slightly less green around the gills.

“You feeling better?”

“I don’t want to kill myself.” Mark grimaced around a piece of bacon. “That’s got to be a good sign. Well, I don’t want to kill myself because of the hangover, anyway.” He shrugged. Kian kissed his forehead.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. Knowing me, I probably said quite a bit last night when I was bottled, did I?”

“Nah, you were okay.”

Well, except for the rambling and the ranting and the sharing of _way_ too much information. Kian really hadn’t needed to know how much Mark would miss David’s nipples – it was definitely something he wanted to purge from his memory now. Though no more so than that crumpled, desperate look on Mark’s face, and the hollow emptiness in his eyes. The way he’d slumped into his chair and looked like the most wretched thing Kian had ever seen. The gusto with which he’d knocked back the drinks. And the way he’d grabbed onto Kian in his sleep and murmured words meant for David.

“I’m surprised. I always get talky when I’m drunk.” Mark blushed. Kian squeezed his shoulder… and then stole some of his bacon.

“You were okay. Just a bit miserable.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind at all. Well, I mind you being miserable, but I don’t mind being there for you when you’re miserable. If you get me.”

Mark laughed weakly. “I get you.”

Kian nodded, settling back next to Mark and allowing himself to settle into the comfortable silence that descended, broken only by the quiet sounds of Mark chewing and the cutlery scraping the plate.

When breakfast was finished, Kian cleared up the plate and left it outside the door for the cleaners to pick up later. When he came back, Mark had sunk down in bed again and was staring at the ceiling. Kian sat down next to him, brushing the hair off his face. Mark grunted and looked at him.

“You feeling better?”

“Kind of.”

“You wanna go do something today, or you wanna stay in?”

Mark shrugged. “Suppose I’d better go out, shouldn’t I? It’s pathetic, sitting in here all the time.”

“Do you want to?”

“Not really.” Mark bit his lip. “I just want to sleep and watch terrible American television.”

“We can do that, then.”

”No… I don’t want to stop you from having fun. You didn’t come all the way across the Atlantic to sit in a crappy hotel room.”

“No, but I did come to spend some time with a certain miserable sod. If he’s in a hotel room, then that’s where I’ll be. I don’t need sunlight.”

Mark snorted, then picked up the remote and turned the television on. Kian assumed that this was a good thing and lay down alongside him, smiling when a hand reached down and squeezed his.


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe things were looking up

“Are you bored yet?” Kian asked, a very long five days later. He wouldn’t have asked at all, except they’d hardly spoken, Mark choosing to sit in silence, mostly staring at the TV, while Kian watched TV as well or flicked through magazines. Nothing was happening, Mark didn’t seem to be getting any better or worse, and Kian was beginning to feel claustrophobic.

“No.” Mark said softly, shaking his head. “I’m okay.”

“Okay.” Kian nodded, rolling over into his stomach and taking his opened magazine with him, resting it on the pillow so he could keep flicking. “You want food or anything?”

“No.” Mark sighed. “I’m not really hungry.” He was lain on his back on the other bed staring up at the ceiling, and had been for quite awhile. Kian nodded again, flicking through a few more pages and getting frustrated at all the ads. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m being boring. You can go out, if you want.”

Kian shrugged, though he very secretly wanted to take Mark up on that offer. But there was no way he’d leave the younger lad, not after the last five nights of quiet sobbing when Mark thought he was asleep, and not after the last five days of desolate silence. Somewhere in the back of his head there was a thought, however irrational, that he might come back to Mark’s lifeless body, face down on the bathroom tiles.

“I’m good. I told you. As long as you’re here, I’m here.”

“But there’s the surf, and…”

“Bugger the surf.” Kian replied, slightly more sharply than he intended. “I’m here with you, and I’ll stay here with you.”

Mark nodded, and Kian realised that under any other circumstances Mark would have rolled his eyes and kept arguing. But he didn’t, just turned on his side and faced the wall, a still, unsettling silence radiating from him. Unable to stop himself, Kian slid off his bed and climbed on next to Mark, pressing himself to the younger boy’s back. He could feel shaking, and wrapped his arms even tighter around Mark’s waist, kissing the back of his neck.

“It’s okay.” He whispered, feeling totally useless. A sharp sob racked Mark’s body.

“It’s not.” Mark gulped. “He said he loved me…”

“I know.”

“I… I love him so much and he… he…”

And then Mark broke down.

It was slow and gradual, as though something was fraying inside Mark, snapping thread by thread. Yet it was so fast, like the last few days had been building up to this, stretching him until he popped. The shaking grew into something more, the occasional hitching sobs running together until Mark’s body was almost convulsing in Kian’s arms, his hands clutching his face while he curled into a ball. Kian tried to hold him, but in the end Mark pulled away and rolled over, burying his face in Kian’s neck and grabbing at his shirt, his hands squeezing with so much tension and pain it was heartbreaking.

Kian stroked his hair, not knowing what else to do, while Mark shattered in his arms.

“He said… he loved me.” Mark sobbed. “I… I… I don’t know what to do… he… it’s all just gone… I can’t… it hurts so much…”

“I know.” Kian murmured, not sure what else to say, how to be enough. “I’m sorry.”

“The… he…” Mark only got that far before his words were swamped beneath another bout of sobs. Kian tried to remember that killing someone was illegal, even though he was tempted to go straight back to Ireland and carve David into tiny bits. But a larger, much louder part of him needed to be here, holding Mark together and hoping that what was broken could be fixed, figure out how he could ease the pain of the man he loved so much. Be there for him, where David hadn’t.

He didn’t know what to say to Mark, how to make it better. So in the end he just laid there, his heart aching while Mark sobbed pitifully into his embrace, and peppered soft kisses over the younger lad’s forehead, wanting to let him know how much he was loved.

“I’m sorry.” Mark said against Kian’s neck, when the violent crying had finally slid into the occasional hiccuping sob. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Kian asked, his fingers having slipped under Mark’s shirt to gently rub the small of his back. He hoped he wasn’t acting too forward, but Mark hadn’t complained so he kept doing it, hoping it helped.

“I… I’m being stupid and emotional…”

“Shh…” Kian whispered, feeling Mark begin to shudder again in his arms. “It’s no trouble. You’ve had a shock and you’re hurting. You can cry as much as you like.”

“Yeah… it’s just not really ‘me’, you know?”

Kian chuckled. “That’s because you’re always so closed off, you eejit! A good cry does you good, you know?”

“Why don’t I feel better, then?”

“You might need a few more to hit your stride.” Kian said, smiling when he felt Mark’s lips curve up against the hollow of his throat. “You wanna talk?”

“Not really. I just miss him.”

“Fair enough.” Kian replied, propping himself up on one elbow when Mark moved to lie on his back, and looking down at him. There were red rings around his eyes, the lashes webbed together in little clumps. Mark wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his bloodshot eyes blinking away the last of his tears. It made Kian want to cry as well, seeing Mark like that.

“I just want him back…” Mark said softly, sniffing wetly. “Is that stupid?”

“No, of course not.” Kian soothed, brushing the hair off Mark’s forehead. “You had some really good times, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Mark breathed. “I just don’t know how to… I’m so used to him being around, you know? He was always the one that was there, and I could talk to him about anything and everything.” He wiped his nose again, and Kian saw new wetness glistening in his eyes. “He… he made me feel… I dunno, Ki… just really good. And there’s this huge hole, and it doesn’t feel like anything could ever fill it.”

“Yeah.” Kian nodded. He knew how that felt. Except something could fill that void, and he could never have it. “But we’re all here for you, you know?”

Mark shook his head. “It isn’t the same.”

“I know. I just…” Kian shrugged, and lay down next to Mark, putting his head on the younger lad’s shoulder. He felt fingers run through his hair, and wondered if it was selfish that Mark seemed to be comforting him now, even if Mark didn’t know it. He just felt so useless and awkward, wanting to fix everything that was hurting Mark but knowing that he didn’t have that power.

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, craning his neck to peck Kian’s cheek. Kian smiled, feeling warmth flood through his body and fighting the desperate urge to leap on Mark and kiss him senseless. But he was still smiling stupidly when Mark rolled away and stood up. “I need a shower.” He said, scratching his hair. “I smell bad.”

Kian’s smile curled into a teasing grimace. “Well, I didn’t like to say anything…”

“Shut up, ya eejit.” Mark laughed, tossing a pillow at him. Kian caught it and hurled it back, laughing when Mark ducked. “Look, get dressed. We’re going out.”

Kian paused. “We are?” He asked cautiously.

“Yeah. I want some sunlight.” Mark replied, and disappeared into the bathroom. Kian smiled. Maybe things were looking up.

 

 

*

 

 

It was dark by the time they got back to the room, but Kian was feeling warm and sun-kissed, and Mark had a healthy glow in his cheeks. They’d walked up and down the beach, mostly, stopping only for fish and chips, and then ice cream. They’d both taken off their shoes, the sand squishing between their toes. And Mark had laughed. Admittedly, it had only been once or twice, and that haunted look had reappeared almost instantly afterwards, but it was something. Kian had wanted to kiss him, right there on the beach.

“Do you want a drink?” Mark asked, heading for the minibar. Kian smiled, flopping back on the bed.

“Please.”

“Uh…” Mark opened the fridge and peered inside. “Any preferences?”

“Surprise me.” Kian shrugged, smiling when Mark sat down next to him and handed him a beer. Mark smiled back, looking utterly beautiful in the dimmed light, little flecks of bronze shining in his hair. Without thinking, Kian reached up one hand and touched his cheek, the feeling of stubble against his hand intoxicating.

‘I love you’, Kian’s mind whispered. But his mouth said “are you okay?” Mark shrugged, dislodging Kian’s hand from his face in the process, though whether it was an accident or on purpose wasn’t entirely clear.

“I… no. Not in the long run, I’m not. But I think I’m okay… like, in this very moment. I’m… a little better. For the moment.”

Kian nodded, and dragged himself back until he was leant against the headboard. He gestured, holding his arms out, and then closed them around the warm body that snuggled into them, a dark head falling to his shoulder, their drinks resting on their thighs. Mark shifted, his hair tickling Kian’s neck.

“Was today okay?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. It was nice. This afternoon, anyway.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry about earlier.”

“Oh god, no. That’s fine.” Kian shook his head emphatically, hugging Mark a little tighter with his free arm. He took a sip of his beer.

“It’s just that it’s been a week and a half now, you know? And I feel really… I miss him, you know? I’ve never gone that long without talking to him, even when we were fighting…” Mark shook his head, lifting the bottle to his lips. Kian kissed the back of his hair, trying to force back the seething hatred he felt for David. There would be time for that later; Mark didn’t need that right now. Mark swallowed. “I just miss his voice. But I…” He trailed off, taking another swallow of beer. “…god, it’s fucking stupid to miss him after what he did, isn’t it?”

“You… you don’t want to get back with him, do you?” Kian said slowly, not sure what had prompted him to say it. It wasn’t really a question he wanted answered. Mark sighed.

“God, of course I do. But… I don’t know if I could. I don’t know if I could trust him again. It’s… I don’t think I could live like that, no matter how much I do miss him. But it’s taken every single ounce of strength I have not to just pick up the phone and say ‘Hi David, feel like taking me back? You can shag around all you want, just don’t leave me, ever…’” He trailed off again, his voice cracking slightly, and Kian hugged him tight, tears pricking at his own eyes. This wasn’t right.

Mark’s averted face tilted up slightly, twisting so he could see Kian out of one eye.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Kian lied. “Why?”

“Because your heart’s smacking me in the back with how fast it’s beating.” Mark said. “What’s up?”

“I…” Kian shook his head. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Yeah, of course I do. Your shit’s important too, I don’t mean to be a miserable sod.”

“It’s kinda about your shit.” Kian said slowly. “I just hate what he’s doing to you. And I hate him for making you feel this way, and for fucking around with you. And I want to make it all better, you know, so you don’t have to be pining after that…” he was going to say ‘useless sack of shit’, but then thought better of it. “…that… cheater.” He finished lamely. “I just want you to be okay, and… you know, it’s horrible to say it… but I want him to suffer so fucking much that everything you’re feeling pales in comparison.” He blushed when he stopped, then felt the stiffening of the body in his arms.

Mark drew in a shallow, gasping breath, and Kian fought the urge to tighten his arms when he felt Mark pull away.

“Oh.” Mark said.

Kian sighed, not sure if he regretted his words, but definitely cursing himself for bringing that look to Mark’s face… the one that made him look like he’d been slapped.

“I’m sorry. That was a bastardy thing to say.”

“No. I… I mean, you can’t help how you feel…” Mark pulled away properly now, and stood up. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot, aren’t I? Pining after some prick that doesn’t give a shit about me?”

“No! You’re just…”

“I’m a fucking idiot.” Mark repeated, crossing his arms over his chest, shielding himself. His beer bottle dangled from his right hand. Kian stood, going to pull him back down onto the bed, try to talk to him. But Mark flinched away, hugging himself.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t…” Kian started.

“I…” Then, without another word, Mark backed away and disappeared into the bathroom. The door shut behind him. In shock, Kian stared at it for a moment, then finally stepped back, sitting heavily onto the bed. The bottle in his hand dropped, but was luckily close enough to the floor that it stayed upright. He could hear quiet weeping from the bathroom, and slid down off the bed onto the floor, cradling his knees to his chest.

 

*

 

Mark went out not long after, and Kian knew better than to follow him. It was long hours later, closer to midnight that he returned, his noises waking Kian from an uneasy sleep. For a long moment Kian lay there, staring into the darkness, listening to Mark move around the room. Then the blankets lifted and solid warmth snuggled hesitantly to his back, a hand curling round to land on his stomach. Mark smelled like beer and cigarettes, and Kian smiled wearily, closing his eyes and dropping back into a troubled sleep.

 

*

 

Kian lifted his fingers, tracing them down Mark’s flushed cheek and smiling at the soft blush that reddened his lips. Mark offered a weak smile.

“Morning.” Mark whispered, snuggling further into the blankets, tucking them beneath his chin. A leg captured Kian’s, tugging him closer, the heat of Mark’s legs against his intoxicating, the weight of his belly pushing against Kian’s comforting and perfect. Kian snaked an arm around his waist.

“Good morning.” Kian murmured back. “Can I ask where you went?”

“To clear my head.” Mark shrugged. “I needed to think some things through.”

“What things are those?”

“Just… the last little while. Everything.” Mark shook his head, bringing his lips dangerously close to Kian’s. Kian drew back a little, not wanting either the temptation or the pain. It was too hard. “And I realised something.” Kian nodded, shuffling closer again, giving Mark time to speak. It was so rare that the younger boy was willing to divulge personal information that it was safer to not get in his way. You never knew when he’d clam up again.

“What did you realise?” He prompted.

“That things were going sour longer than I let myself realise.” Mark said softly, as though every word was hard to say. “I wanted to believe everything was okay, I think, but… but it wasn’t. It hadn’t been. I’d been…” He swallowed. “…maybe I would have done it myself, even if I hadn’t found out. Maybe I would have slept with someone else.”

“Who?” Kian murmured, not quite sure why he wanted to know. Some kind of morbid curiosity, maybe. Because it sure as hell wasn’t him.

“Anyone.” Mark said, after a deep, trembling breath. “That sounds so horrible, doesn’t it? I just needed someone. I didn’t have him… I felt like I was alone half the time, and even when we spoke… well, maybe I suspected it, without even admitting it to myself. He always had these inconvenient assignments due and I listened, I thought… I just wanted him to be successful and happy… I… I never wanted to believe, because it wasn’t just his fault… it was mine. I was away all the time…” He swallowed. “I felt like I was all by myself.”

“You had us.” Kian murmured, stroking fingers through Mark’s hair. “Why didn’t you say anything? I could’ve come over. I would’ve been happy to.”

Mark shook his head. “It’s not the same, Ki.”

“It could have been.” Kian murmured, flashes of kissing Mark, holding him, being his lover flashing through his mind. That almost-kiss in the club… the look of want in Mark’s eyes. He looked up, and Mark was watching him curiously.

“Pardon?”

Kian shook his head, and his gaze settled on full, rosy lips, and flushed cheeks. Dull, unhappy eyes. Needing something. Empty, somehow.

This was going to be the stupidest thing he ever did, he just knew it.

He curled his fingers in Mark’s soft, dark hair, letting the strands run through his fingers like silk threads. Mark looked back at him, confused and uncertain. Kian leant forward.

“Don’t freak out.” He whispered, before his lips brushed Mark’s. Tasting sweet, soft flesh that stayed unresistingly still. He heard Mark swallow, but the younger boy didn’t move, and he brought his lips down more insistently onto Mark’s, trying desperately not to go too hard and frighten him, but almost overcome with the tender sensation of pliable lips beginning to move hesitantly under his.

“Okay?” He whispered, and Mark nodded.

“Kiss me.” He said, cheeks burning shyly red. Kian grinned, ducking his head and massaging Mark’s beautiful lips with his own, keeping his tongue out of the way for the moment. Mark sighed, his breathing speeding up and coming in deep, croaky gasps. Kian’s fingers found their way to his cheek, cupping it and pulling Mark in further, lips caressing and touching, moulding and tasting, taking in absolutely everything, as much as he could. Mark moaned quietly in his throat, and Kian pulled away.

Mark swallowed, his eyes flickering drowsily open, even though they had been wide and alert a moment before. Kian felt a rush of lust spike through him.

“Ki?” Mark croaked. Kian bit his lip, blushing.

“You can yell at me if you like. I just needed to do that. Just once.”

Mark licked his lips, as though tasting Kian. “Why?”

“Because you’re wonderful and deserved to be loved so much. I wanted you to know. I’m sorry. I’ve fucked this all up.”

He knew his heart should be hammering in his chest, but the time for that was all over. That had been the last four years. Now the wave had crashed and was swirling in an eddy around his feet, sucking itself back out to sea. It was nothing. This, the way Mark was looking at him, was all that was.

“Do you love me?” Mark asked slowly.

“Yes.” Kian stated. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Mark shook his head. “Is that why you kissed me? That time?”

Kian nodded, Mark sighed, reaching out to pull Kian into a crushing hug. Their arms wrapped around each other, holding tight, Kian’s fingers stroking Mark’s back, Mark’s lips pressing comforting kisses to Kian’s shoulder.

“Why did you kiss me back?” Kian asked.

“I don’t even know.” Mark admitted. “Just for a second, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. I was lonely and miserable, and I needed to be kissed. You know? I needed something… intimate. I wanted someone there.”

“I’m sorry I did it. It wasn’t fair on you.”

“No, what wasn’t fair on me was finding out my boyfriend had been fucking around behind my back. What you did…” Mark shook his head on Kian’s shoulder. “…it’s okay. In a strange way, it was actually better than any of the ones I got from him. In the last few months anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because yours was honest.” Mark said. “He begged and pleaded with me, when he told me. You know that? And I would have given in if I hadn’t seen in his eyes what I did. I would have hugged him and said we’d figure it out. Fuck, I would have quit the band if I’d had to. But…” He bit his lip. “…but there was something there in his eyes that said that he didn’t much care either way, even if he didn’t know it himself. And I’ve only just realised that maybe I didn’t care as much as I thought either.”

Kian nodded, pushing his fingers through Mark’s hair again.

“I love you, you know. That’s the honest truth.” He murmured.

“And the honest truth is that I don’t know how I feel. About anyone.” Mark looked up. “I’m sorry, Ki. But I have to be honest. I like kissing you, god knows I do, but I’m not remotely ready for… for feelings yet. Not for anyone.”

Kian nodded. Mark nodded back.

And there they stayed, just for a while, wrapped in each others’ warmth.


	11. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something was still unresolved

“How’s Gill? Oh, that’s great!” Kian grinned, holding the phone to his ear while Mark thumped him repeatedly on the shoulder, groping playfully for the phone. “He’s being an eejit!” Kian laughed in response to Shane’s question.

“Did you tell him?” Shane asked quietly, and Kian bit his lip.

“I… kind of.” He glanced at Mark, waving him away. The boy was being a fucking Mexican jumping bean all by himself. Mark just grinned and dashed from the room. Kian watched him go, suspicious.

“Meaning?”

“I kissed him.” There was a sudden, heavy silence from the other end of the phone, and Kian swallowed when he heard Shane breathing ominously. “A week and a half ago.” He added.

“And?” Shane asked. Kian bit his lip.

“We’re doing okay.” He said vaguely, which was basically true. Mark hadn’t beaten him up or run away, but since that first night when they’d laid together for hours, hugging and talking, there had been a strange distance there. It wasn’t hostile, but it was protective, as though Mark was keeping a physical space between them.

It made Kian feel uneasy, even though Mark had been his usual self apart from that. He’d moped a lot, but he seemed to be getting along okay. He’d smiled more and more as the days had gone by, had even allowed Kian to take him for a night out. Not to get drunk and block everything out, just a fun night. And they’d gone to the beach a couple of times. It had been nice. Fun.

But it hadn’t felt quite right.

They were going home tomorrow, and it felt like something was unresolved. Something hadn’t settled into place.

“Shall I trust you and not ask any more questions?”

“That’d be nice, yeah.” Kian admitted. “I haven’t majorly cocked up. I promise.”

“Alright.” Shane sighed. “Wanna put him on? God, I feel like I haven’t seen you two in ages! It’s so weird!”

Kian laughed. “Yeah, okay. See you later then, mate. Mark!?”

“Yeah?” Mark reappeared, and Kian waved the phone at him, laughing when it was snatched away. “Hiya Shane!”

Kian patted his shoulder, trying to ignore the fact that Mark flinched away. It was minute – almost unnoticeable. But it was there. He smiled at the younger man and went to finish packing his suitcase.

Mark hung up not long after and they kept packing, chatting away. There was no oppressive silence, it felt as comfortable as ever. But he couldn’t shake the fact that something was there between them. Kian pouted at a teasing comment Mark made, and where he normally would have leapt onto the bigger boy’s back, he held himself off.

They went out, a final celebration before heading back to cold, grey Dublin. The sky was clear and bright with stars, the heat muggy but comfortable, swathed around them. They said ‘cheers’ and clinked glasses, and stole food off each other’s plates. Then they walked along the beach, the sand squishing coolly between their toes, the waves crashing peacefully beside them.

They stopped on a deserted patch of sand further on up the beach away from the buildings, the stars sprinkled above them like glitter. Kian laughed as he watched Mark twirl on the sand, then collapse, lying on his back, staring up at the heavens.

“You’ll get sand in your hair.” Kian said, and Mark chuckled.

“I don’t care.” He waved his hands above him, as though trying to touch the stars. “The moon’s full.”

Kian looked up, smiling as he saw the great pale orb hanging over their heads. Mark sighed contentedly, dragging himself to his feet and standing next to Kian. There was silence, except for the waves crashing on the shore and the faint laughter and music from parties further down the beach. It was almost romantic. Perfect. His hand itched to reach out and take Mark’s, but he didn’t. He’d obviously done enough damage for one holiday.

“It was really good of you to come all this way.” Mark said finally. Kian shrugged.

“I’d do it again in an instant.” He smiled at the awkward look in Mark’s eyes. “Not… I mean… it’s because you’re my best friend. I had a really good time.”

“Me too. Considering the circumstances.” Mark ran fingers self-consciously through his hair. “Thank you.”

“It’s late.” Kian said reluctantly, glancing at his watch. “We have an early flight tomorrow, so…”

“Kian, I’m… I’m sorry.” Mark cut in, and Kian suspected he might have seen a blush rise in the brunette’s cheeks had it been light enough.

“For what?"

“I dunno. I’ve felt weird around you, and I think I might’ve been acting it, so…” He shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Kian shook his head. “I put you in an awkward position…”

“Yeah, you did, but… but that’s not it.” Mark sighed. “Look, the honest truth is… I’ve been thinking about you, okay?” He swallowed, and began to pace slightly on the sand. “Like that, I mean. Or… I don’t know yet. Maybe I have but… but it scares me because I just… I love…” He paused, groaning to himself, sounding frustrated. Kian’s heart hammered against his ribs. “It’s too soon to feel anything about anyone yet. It is. I’ve had my heart trodden all over and I still feel like I’m betraying him. It’s too soon.”

“I don’t mean to push you.” Kian murmured. “Whenever you want… or even at all. Just… we can be friends… I never meant to make you feel like we couldn’t be.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” Mark’s voice was exasperated. “Look, I want to be friends. I do. I fucking love you to bits! But every time you touch me or look at me, I can’t help but want to… I can’t help but…” He bit his lip, then leant forward, his kiss catching Kian completely off guard.

It was gone before Kian could register that Mark had even moved, but his lips tingled pleasantly and he reached up to touch them. Mark was staring off into the far distance now, biting his lip again. Kian reached out a hand, catching Mark’s. Their fingers entwined, and he squeezed, trying to comfort.

Mark shook his head, though it didn’t seem to be directed at anyone.

“Come on.” He said passively, dropping Kian’s hand. “It’s late. We have an early flight tomorrow.”

They walked back up the beach, up to the room. They undressed, and climbed into their separate beds, and turned out the lights.


	12. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you live with me loving you so much it kills me every time you’re near me?

Mark decided to stay in his London apartment, so Kian decided it was probably best to stay in his own. They weren’t far from each other, and Kian figured he could speed over if he was needed. But after four days, it appeared he wasn’t. They’d spoken on the phone a few times – it had been perfunctory and impersonal – and that had been all.

It wasn’t until the fifth day that he got a proper phone call. He’d been moping about, thinking about how good a kisser Mark was and eating a microwave dinner when the phone rang, and he turned the sound down on the television to answer it, smiling when he saw who it was.

“Hello? Egan’s palace of kinky lovin’.”

“Ooh, s’pose I’ve got the wrong place then. I was look for the Kian Egan with the small dick.”

“Fuck off Nix.” Kian laughed, clicking with the remote again to mute the TV. “What’s the craic?”

“Eh… not much.” Nicky replied. “You?”

“Being a complete bum. Enjoying it immensely.” The second part was a lie, but it sounded good. He heard Nicky chuckle.

“So you won’t want to come over mine for a party on Friday night?”

“No, not at all.” Kian bluffed. “You’ve got rats. And don’t even get me started on the termites.”

“Fine, don’t bother.” Nicky huffed. “I won’t share my termites with you.”

“I’m devastated. Nah, I’d love to.” Kian conceded, grinning. “What kind of party are we talking? A gathering? A bash? Quiet drinks? An orgy?”

“A cheer-Mark-the-fuck-up party.” Nicky replied. “I’ve never seen anyone look so fucking depressed.”

“You’ve seen him then?” Kian said, surprised. As far as he knew, Mark hadn’t spoken to anyone since they’d gotten back. Not that Kian was stalking him or anything, the younger lad had just seemed so isolated it seemed strange to think of him talking to anyone.

“Yeah, looks like he’s been hit by a misery truck.” Nicky sighed. “Me and Gina just popped around to say hi yesterday, and he was hardly the best company. We gave him his cake and left.”

“You gave him cake?”

“Yeah, I tried to bake. Figured it might cheer him up.”

“It makes me laugh just thinking about it.” Kian teased. “How much of your kitchen is still intact?”

“All of it, I’ll have you know.” Nicky countered, before turning serious again. “But seriously… I’m worried about him. I don’t think he’s left the house since… you know what. I thought it might do him good to talk to someone other than his own reflection. And you, I assume. How was the trip, by the way?”

“Three weeks of misery.” Kian sighed. “No, it wasn’t so bad. Some days he was fine, but most of the time… it’s really hit him hard. I think his whole world’s been ripped out from under him.” And you’ve hardly made it better, he said to himself silently, thinking of that kiss. He’d told Shane there’d been no major cock-ups, but now he wasn’t so sure. Fuck, what was he supposed to do now?

“I can imagine.” Nicky sighed. “I mean, if I found out Gina was… shit, it’s just such a mess.” He sighed again. “I never suspected, you know? I thought he was a straight-up bloke.”

“Me too. And so did Mark, I suppose.” Kian said. As much as he hadn’t liked David, there had been no reason to suspect… though Mark said he might have. But that could just be hindsight. He shook his head. “Well, I’ll be there, anyway. Anything you want me to bring?”’

“Mark. He’s not answering his phone, and seeing as this is in his honour it’d be a shame if he wasn’t there. Not that we’re telling him that.”

“No, of course not. Just a regular ordinary party for no reason?”

“Exactly.” Nicky confirmed. “Bring him. And some booze. Whatever you like.”

“Will do.”

They made small-talk for a few more minutes before Nicky hung up, saying he had a few more people to ring. Kian tried to ring Mark, but there was no response, and he finished his dinner in silence, the colours of the TV flickering over his face. It was a long time before he realised it was still muted, too lost in his thoughts to pay attention.

Where the hell was Mark?

And what the hell was Kian going to do to fix this mess he’d caused?

 

*

 

“Mark? You ready?” Kian called, opening the unlocked door and peering inside, sighing when he saw the sight he’d dreaded. Mark stared back at him, huddled under a blanket in the dark, the light of the TV flickering over his face. “Mark…”

Mark shook his head. “I’m not in the mood, Ki. I told you on the phone.”

“And I told you to get dressed and be ready. We’ll be late.” He strode over and switched the TV off, then flicked the lights on. Mark blinked in the sudden brightness, and scowled.

“I’m not going. You go.”

“Oh yes you are.” Kian argued, yanking the blanket from Mark and rolling his eyes when he saw Mark was still wearing ratty track pants and an old t-shirt. “Get up.” He grabbed Mark’s hand and yanked him up, shoving him toward the bathroom. “Shower, teeth, hair. Go.” Mark scowled again. “I’m going to pick out your clothes.” Kian called when the door shut resentfully. “So don’t even think about fucking around in there, or you’ll be wearing plaid!”

“I’m not wearing anything! I’m not going!”

“Like hell!” Kian called back, pleased when he heard the shower start, and headed into Mark’s bedroom to pick out some clothes, glad that he’d anticipated this and come over early.

It was a warzone, clothes and papers strewn everywhere as though Mark hadn’t had the strength or inclination to even pick up his dirty underwear. Kian kicked a pair of boxers aside and began to rummage through a drawer, finally finding a shirt that didn’t need ironing, and a pair of black pants that… well, in all honestly Kian just chose them because Mark’s arse looked fantastic in them.

But if the belle was going to the ball, she needed to look gorgeous, didn’t she?

He’d just started tidying up Mark’s dishes (which were piled high in the sink and beginning to smell) when the shower stopped. Mark appeared a few moments later, wrapped in a towel. Kian grinned at him, trying not to drop his eyes below his friend’s face, even though it was very difficult. And hard. Mark smiled awkwardly at him.

“Your clothes are on the bed.” Kian said, marching past and picking the clothes up off the bed, not trusting Mark to not just go to sleep if he was let into the bedroom by himself. “Here, this shirt’s nice, and these trousers…” He threw them at Mark. “Hurry up, and then I’ll do your hair.”

“Kian…” Mark said softly, the clothes hanging limply in his hands. “I don’t think I can…”

“Yes you can.” Kian replied, but melted when he saw the anguished, lost expression on Mark’s face. He went over, wrapping Mark in a hug and smiling when the younger lad didn’t flinch away. “You can do this, okay? I’ll be there, if you need anything. And if it’s too much, we can go hide.” He stroked Mark’s hair gently. “You can’t let this beat you, love.”

“Love.” Mark repeated in a whisper. “Kian…”

“I’m sorry, it just… slipped out.” Kian said quickly, stepping away, having realised suddenly that he was hugging a half-naked, dripping wet Mark.

“No.” Mark shook his head, biting his lip. “It’s okay.” He shifted the clothes in his hands. “Look… I’ll just go get dressed…”

“Yeah.” Kian said, then swore when Mark had disappeared into the bathroom. How the hell could that have slipped out? He’d never called Mark anything like that, except for in his imagination. Love, darling, sweetheart, baby, honey… they were all from his dreams. How could he have let that out? He cursed himself. Fucking stupid.

When Mark was dressed, Kian dried and styled his hair, laughing when Mark made a face at the high Mohawk his hair was jokingly styled into, before ruffling it all down and doing it properly.

“What do you think?” He said, trying to ignore the pliant feeling of Mark under his fingers when he put his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. Mark smiled.

“Looks good. Thanks.”

“It’s okay, sw…” Kian shook his head, blushing. “It’s okay.”

“I…” Mark sighed. “Ki… can we talk?”

Kian looked at his watch. “We’re due at the party soon.”

“I don’t want to go!” Mark cried, exasperated, though Kian could see the slight twinkle in his eyes. Mark had given in long before. “Just for a minute. Please.”

“Okay.” Kian sat down in a nearby dining chair, turning it to face Mark, who had collapsed back into his armchair. His heart was hammering in his chest – Mark looked serious. Maybe he would say they needed a break, to not see each other for a while. Maybe…

“Ki… you know I love you, right?”

Kian nodded. “As a friend, I know.”

“No… more than that.” Mark said softly. “You know that. But I need time to think, get myself back on track.”

“I know, you’ve told me.”

“I know. Just… stop.” Mark held up a silencing hand, stopping Kian’s nervous interruptions. “Look, it’s not anything to do with you, okay? You’ve been wonderful… you came all the way out to Hawaii for me, you let me… grieve.” He swallowed. “And I think more than anything that’s what made me think… you and me, y’know? But the problem is… maybe I just needed you? Maybe that’s what made me want you… the fact that I needed you. And it worries me, okay? I feel like I’d be using you without knowing it, and I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“I wouldn’t.” Kian whispered, though they both knew that was a lie. The thought of Mark suddenly not needing him, walking out because there was nothing else there but that need, was absolutely heartbreaking.

“You would.” Mark murmured. “I don’t want to hurt you and I…” He swallowed. “Ki, I’m just not ready for another relationship yet. I’ve given six years of my life to someone, I don’t know what to do now. I need some time… I… I think I need to be single. The truth is I don’t know who I am anymore. I know who Mark and David were, because that was part of me for so long. I don’t know how to be alone, and I think I need to learn that before I can be with someone else. I need to know who I am, all by myself.”

Kian nodded slowly.

“I understand.”

“Do you? Really?”

“Yes.” Kian felt tears prick at his eyes, and cursed them. What had he expected? Mark to suddenly fall into his arms just because David was out of the picture? Fucking stupid. But there was a finality now that hadn’t been there before. Mark had kissed him, and now…

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“No. God no.” Kian wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, shaking his head furiously. “I want you to be happy. More than anything I want that.”

“And I want you to be happy too. Don’t wait for me, please… I don’t know how long…”

Kian shook his head. “I don’t know how not to wait for you. I’ve been doing it for so long, I…”

“Oh Ki…” Mark pushed himself out of the chair, rushing over to wrap Kian in a hard hug, squeezing him almost painfully. Kian grabbed onto him, not wanting to let go for a moment. Mark’s hands stroked his back, his face buried in Kian’s shoulder while Kian’s own buried in Mark’s chest.

“I want to love you.” Mark murmured. “But not now. Not yet.”

“I’ll wait.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“And I refuse to miss my chance.” Kian said, not moving from Mark’s embrace. “I love you, okay? I love you so much I don’t know how to stand it. I’d wait forever.”

“And if something happens? If I end up with someone else?”

Kian swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Then it happens. But I won’t be the one to let go.”

”Oh, Kian.” Mark whispered, kissing his cheek. “Ki.”

 

*

 

“Mark looks good.” Shane said, sidling up to Kian through the crowd of people that filled Nicky’s house. Kian nodded.

“He does.”

“And why would that be?”

“Because…” Kian sighed. “We had a bit of a chat. I mean… a proper, serious chat.”

“And…?”

“And things are okay.” Kian smiled. “They’ll be okay.”

“Uh huh.” Shane nodded. “So why do you look so fucking miserable then?”

“Because.” Kian downed the rest of the drink. “And that’s all you need to know. Mark is… better. He’s not great, but he’s not crying hysterically and he’s not suicidal, and he’s not biting anyone’s head off. That’s a good thing.”

“It is.” Shane smiled, squeezing Kian’s shoulder. “Look, whatever you did… I’m glad you did it. It’s nice to see him smile.”

“It is.” Kian nodded. “Look, I’ll see you round. I need the loo.”

He pushed away, moving through the people until he found a spare bathroom. He locked the door, and leaned his head against the cool tiles, holding back a sob. Everything was good, he told himself. Everything wasn’t lost, and Mark was better. It was going to be fine.

He let the sob out, sitting down on the lid of the toilet and putting his face in his hands. God, why did it have to be like this? So fucking… difficult?

He wiped his eyes and went back out, snatching himself a drink from the nearest table and opening the bottle. He looked around the crowd, wanting to see Mark, wanting to see that he had made the right decision, if only by the smile on his friend’s face. But he couldn’t find him.

“Kian.”

“Jesus, don’t do that to me!” Kian gasped, whirling around to come face to face with Mark, who smiled, lifting one hand in a wave.

“Erm… sorry? Want a drink?”

“Got one.” Kian waved his bottle at Mark, grinning. “But thanks.”

“That’s okay. Wanna drink with me, then?”

“Love to.” Kian smiled, though the idea of spending that much time with Mark was painful enough. But he loved Mark, and the look in Mark’s eyes was nothing short of pleading. He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, squeezing. Mark leant forward and whispered in Kian’s ear.

“Can we go hide somewhere, please?”

Kian nodded dumbly, and they wandered through Nicky’s house, peering through doors, but there was no luck. Every room seemed to be filled with snogging couples or drunken groups of people Kian only vaguely knew. Before he knew it, they were at the back door leading out onto the garden. There were no people out there, it was being landscaped and the whole place was filled with holes and black plastic.

Mark grinned, tugging Kian through the door by the wrist.

“Over here.” He whispered, and Kian giggled, thinking that this wasn’t nearly as adventurous as Mark was making out. But he followed anyway, finding himself on a half-paved patio a few seconds later. Mark grinned, and spread out his coat for them to sit on. They had to squash up pretty close to do it, but seeing as Mark didn’t seem to mind all that much Kian didn’t press the matter.

“So why are we hiding?” Kian whispered, then wondered why he hadn’t just spoken normally. It wasn’t as if they were going to get detention. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Mark murmured back, then sighed. “Some guy came onto me.”

Kian pushed down the urge to choke whoever it was, feeling his face turn red with anger. “And?” He prompted gently.

“And… you said to come find you if I needed to hide. And I did. So I did.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Ki. This is hard on you, I know. But it’s what I was talking about before, right? I feel like I need you because… I dunno, we spent so much time together, and you were such a big help…” Kian swelled with pride at that. “I’m sorry. I’m being dependent and weird."

“You aren’t!” Kian protested. “God, I’m pleased you felt like you could talk to me!” He nudged Mark slightly. “Not to mention you totally wanted to get me out in the dark so you could jump me.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Mark drawled dryly, before chuckling. Kian grinned, leaning back against Mark and shuffling back further when an arm came around his shoulders, draping over his chest.

“Ki? Can I tell you something?”

“Sure you can.” Kian replied, leaning his head on Mark’s shoulder, feeling the apprehension in his body, the tenseness. “But just for the record, I know I’m not a natural blonde. You don’t need to tell me.”

“Damn, and here I was wondering if you dyed your pubes brown for the look of it.” Mark joked, making Kian collapse into giggles, his head dangerously close to Mark’s lap by the time he righted himself, still hiccuping with laughter. Mark laughed, kissing the back of his head. Kian wriggled, pleased despite the situation.

“So what were you gonna tell me, then?” Kian asked, patting Mark’s thigh.

“I somehow think the moment’s gone.” Mark laughed, putting his arm back around Kian’s shoulder. Kian poked him.

“Oh no, you’re not getting away that easily!”

Mark swallowed. “Okay. God, this is so embarrassing but… okay, the thing is… I’ve never, I’ve never done… it with anyone else. I mean, I’ve never… y’know… done anything with anyone else. Apart from him. Y’know?”

“Ohhh…” Kian said. “Oh.” He glanced at Mark. “And this is a problem because…?”

“Because… I dunno. You don’t think that’s weird?”

“Why would that be weird?” Kian asked. “I mean, how old were you when you got together? Seventeen?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. Seventeen.”

“Okay, so considering you hadn’t come out then, it’s hardly a surprise. Like, who were you gonna shag in Sligo? It wasn’t likely you were gonna be around the back of the footy sheds with all the other couples having a snog, is it?”

“No. I know. I just…” Mark shook his head, pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one. He offered one to Kian, who declined.

“No thanks, I’m trying to cut back.” He looked wistfully at the packet, though, and Mark laughed.

“I’ll put the temptation away, shall I?” He shoved them into his pocket and lit the one he was holding, taking a deep drag. “How old were you?”

“Twenty-four, last time I checked.” Kian chuckled. “Or do you mean when I first shagged?” Mark nodded, slapping Kian lightly with the hand that was still draped over his shoulder. “Are we talking men, or women?”

“Slag.”

“Am not.” Kian elbowed him. “I was fifteen when I first got into a girl’s pants.”

Mark nodded. “How was it?”

“Okay, surprisingly. Give me that.” He reached up and stole Mark’s cigarette, taking a grudging puff before handing it back. “No… I mean, it was an experience. It wasn’t incredible, but I came. It was kind of like ‘yeah, this is nice and tight… I can deal with this…’ and then I came, and it was over. And that was kind of it.”

“But you shagged around with girls anyway?”

“Sure. I was getting my rocks off, and they weren’t complaining. That makes me sound like a prick now, I know, but… I was a fifteen year old boy! I was hardly thinking about feelings. I wanted to get laid.”

“And men? When was that?”

“Ah, now that…” Kian chuckled, remembering with slight embarrassment. “Was a bit of an experience. I was twenty, and I had absolutely no clue what I was doing. Fucking hell, it was good, though.”

“You’ve a lot of experience. I don’t.” Mark sighed. “I feel stupid, you know? I’ve done it with one guy. Ever. And even that was… it was lovemaking. I thought it was anyway. I don’t even know how to look at a guy like…”

“You’ve got more experience than me, I’d guess.” Kian interrupted. “I fuck occasionally, when someone’s available. You’ve had lots of practice.”

“With one guy.” Mark shook his head. “Ki?”

“Yes?”

“Do you really love me?”

Kian nodded. “I do.”

“Oh.” Mark nodded, squeezing Kian’s shoulder. “You’re my best friend, you know?”

“I know.” Kian nodded, supposing that was the best thing he could have from Mark right now. “Right back at ya.”

“Yeah. Ki?”

“Yeah?”

“If I ask you something, will you not freak out or overanalyse it too much?”

“I can’t promise that.” Kian replied. “But I’ll give it a shot.” He turned to look at Mark, nervous when he saw the anxious expression. “What’s up?”

“I need you.” Mark whispered, blushing. “I tried not to, but I do.” He looked at Kian, biting his lip, and Kian felt his stomach jolt at the piercing lust he saw in Mark’s eyes

“You said you didn’t want to need me.”

“I know, but I…” Mark swallowed. “Kian? Can I kiss you?”

Kian gulped, turning in Mark’s arms and kneeling in front of him, knees either side of Mark’s. He took his friend’s hands, staring at them for a moment, then looked up at Mark, his expression a mirror of Kian’s own anxious face.

“Why?”

“Because… cos you’re my best friend. And I love you. And… the honest truth is that I feel really alone and just want someone to…” He looked away. “I don’t want to hurt you, Ki.”

Kian nodded, looking away himself.

“Can you live with me loving you so much it kills me every time you’re near me? Because this will make it a hundred times worse.”

Mark lifted his hand, and Kian pushed into the fingers that cupped his chin and stroked his cheek. Their eyes locked, and Mark smiled nervously.

“I want to try. I mean… I know I said I didn’t, but I want…” He exhaled heavily. “Can I take you out?”

Kian laughed humourlessly, shaking his head.

“You want to take me out.”

“Yeah. I do.” Mark nodded seriously. “For drinks, maybe? Or we could just stay in and watch some TV. I’d like that.”

“Mark…” Kian sighed, then, trying not to think, leant forward, his mouth making hesitant contact with Mark’s lips. They were soft and pliant, less resistant than the last time he’d done this. Mark’s head tilted to the side, lips opening slightly to deepen the kiss. Kian moaned softly, the heat of Mark’s breath in his mouth making his groin throb.

They pulled away, Kian most reluctantly, and when he looked up into bright eyes, he smiled.

“You’re all flushed.” He whispered, and Mark blushed further, his hands coming to his face. “And I wouldn’t worry about experience.”

“Oh… really?” Mark giggled stupidly, and Kian launched himself onto him, hugging him tight.

“I fucking love you.”

“I love you too. Really.” Mark said softly, hugging Kian back. “Just give me a bit of time.”

“Okay.” Kian nodded, bittersweet joy singing through his body. “I can do that.” He looked around. “Do you want to go back in and join the party?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, leaning in to kiss Kian again. Kian moaned into it, dragging himself away when he felt Mark’s tongue stroke his lips.

“Too soon. You need time.” Mark gave him a pained look.

“I do. I’m sorry.” He smiled, standing and pulling Kian to his feet. “Come on, you can find me a drink.”


	13. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He loved Mark's voice.

“I had a really good time.” Mark murmured, looking up from under beautifully thick lashes, his eyes oceanic and piercing. He swallowed, and Kian smiled weakly, trying desperately not to jump him there and then. “Just thought you’d like to know.”

“Me too.” Kian replied. “You didn’t have to pay, though.”

“I wanted to.” Mark smiled shyly. “You know, repay you for all the shit I’ve put you through.”

“Oh Marky… god, that doesn’t matter…” Kian exclaimed, pulling Mark into a hug, glad the street was deserted at this time of night. “You’re perfect, okay?” Mark hitched a bashful shoulder, and Kian hugged him again, kissing his cheek. “Well…” He stepped back. “I’ll see you, then.”

“Yeah. Next time.” Mark nodded, making Kian grin like a teenager. God, how did one person manage to be so sweet and wonderful? “Or at work tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Kian chuckled. They were going back in tomorrow to start recording the new album, their holiday finally over. A rat pack album. And while it wasn’t exactly Kian’s cup of tea, he was readily anticipating a bit of a change. It looked like it was going to be great fun, this one. “It’s weird going back, isn’t it?”

“It is. I feel really off-kilter, you know? It’s the first time we’ve recorded an album and I haven’t been able to rush home and show Dav…” He paused, then shook his head. “I’m sorry. D word.”

“It’s okay.” Kian said gently, reaching out to put a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “You’re still in love with him.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. God! I… I thought maybe after you and I got a bit more settled, maybe…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ve been on three dates, Marky. You’ve only been apart for two months – I’m not expecting miracles here.”

“Yeah.” Mark sighed, biting his lip and reaching back to put his hand on the doorknob. “Well, I suppose I’d better get inside. It’s late…”

“Yeah, of course.” Kian leant in for the chaste kiss that landed on his cheek. He lifted his hand, caressing Mark’s cheek, their faces pressed intimately together. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you.” Mark murmured. Kian nodded, feeling tears prick his eyes.

“I know. I love you too.” He stepped away, trying to hold back his tears. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Mark nodded, before disappearing inside, the door shutting behind him, though Kian could see his face peering out of the glass window set into the wood. He waved and turned, making his way quietly into the night, trying to ignore the tingling on his cheek where Mark had kissed him, and the uncertain pain in his heart.

 

*

 

Kian watched Mark in the booth, mesmerised as the younger lad sang. His eyes were shut, his hands moving gently at his sides with the emotion of the song. Kian wanted to stride in and kiss him.

“…and the moment I can feel that… you feel that way too…”

He trailed off and opened his eyes, looking at the faces of the people crowded around. Their producers, the other lads. And then his eyes caught Kian’s, and smiled. Bashful and uncertain, but real.

“Was that okay?”

“Fine, Mark.” The producer said, though Kian thought it was much better than fine. He loved Mark’s voice – it was honey and chocolate and wood smoke.

“You sounded beautiful.” He whispered when Mark collapsed into the chair next to him, and Mark blushed, a stupid grin splitting his face.

“Thank you.” Mark whispered. “You did too. Earlier, I mean.”

Kian felt himself blush. “Liar.”

“No… you sounded fantastic. I always think you sound fantastic.” He looked away with a bashful smile, and Kian grinned, patting his shoulder, feeling himself fall for Mark even more.

 

*

 

“No, no, no… it’s gotta be Johnny Depp!”

“Not a chance in hell!” Mark protested. “Brad Pitt all the way!” He bit his lip coyly. “I mean, after you, of course.”

Kian laughed. “You think I’m better looking than Brad Pitt? You need your eyes checked, Feehily.” He rolled over to face the ceiling. They were laid on the couch in Mark’s hotel room, a celebrity magazine in Kian’s hand, debating the legitimacy of the ‘sexiest men’ list.

“I do indeed.” Mark confirmed, shifting slightly closer, and Kian lifted his head for a kiss, smiling. Mark had kissed him so often since their first date, but it still left him in awe every time.

“Well I think you’re better looking than Depp.” Kian replied, running his fingers through soft, thick hair, his stomach fluttering when Mark pushed into the touch. “Totally.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not. You’re stunning.” Kian murmured, tugging Mark’s head down for another kiss. “I’ve never seen anyone so gorgeous.”

“Ki…” Mark blushed, turning away, but Kian pulled him back.

“You’re gorgeous…” Kian said softly. “So totally sexy.”

“Sexy?” Mark chuckled, ducking his head for another kiss, this one deeper and more intimate. Kian groaned softly, his fingers moving deeper into Mark’s hair to cradle his nape, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

He couldn’t believe it had gotten to this point. After so many years of anguish and heartbreak, here was Mark, almost laid on top of him, his tongue pushing into Kian’s mouth. It was almost perfect.

“Now that…” Kian murmured when Mark pulled away and rested his head on Kian’s shoulder. “…was nice.”

Mark made a funny little snorting laugh, but Kian started when he realised how wet it sounded, and pulled back to look at Mark’s face, which looked to be crumpling inwards.

“Marky?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Mark said abruptly, scrubbing his hand across his face. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh love…” Kian soothed, stroking his hands down Mark’s back, feeling him begin to shake. “It’s okay… I’m sorry…” He smiled weakly. “I’m not that bad a kisser, am I?”

Mark laughed damply, his face pushing into Kian’s neck. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, love.” Kian said softly, though it _wasn’t_ , not really. Right now the thing he wanted to do most was stalk all the way across the Irish Sea to Sligo, just so could rip David’s balls out by the roots. But that wouldn’t fix anything, he knew. The damage had already been done. The only thing he could do was thank god David hadn’t tried to contact Mark, or shown up trying to get him back.

“It’s not! I’m so fucking pathetic.” Mark whispered. “I’m so fucked up… I…”

“It’s not your fault, okay?” Kian interrupted. “Don’t even think that.” His mind whirled, trying to figure out how to make this better, trying to stop Mark from hurting. But he couldn’t come up with anything. There was nothing he could control here, except himself.

“Marky?” He swallowed down the frightened lump that rose in his throat. “If this really was too soon for you… if you want to hold off for a while…”

To his relief, Mark shook his head.

“No. I need you.”

“You didn’t want to need me, remember?” Kian said hesitantly. “Maybe this isn’t the healthiest thing, if…”

“So you want to break up with me too?” Mark said, shoving away and sitting up. “I’m too much of a burden, is that it?”

“No! God no!” Kian protested, but when he went to sit up as well, Mark stood, backing away. “I love you! But I don’t want you here if you feel like…”

“You don’t want me here? Fine.” Mark began to stalk away.

“…if you feel like you have to be!” Kian finished. “I want you to be happy! Please just…” He leapt over to Mark and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back to face him. “I love you, don’t you get that? I don’t want you to leave! But if there’s a way you can be happy then I…” He swallowed, knowing the next part was the truth, but frightened it would come to that. “…if you can be happy, and it means I… I’m not… then I… I want that.” He let go of Mark’s wrist and stepped away, looking at his hands.

“I love you.” Kian said. “I do. Why can’t you believe that?”

“You don’t. You think you do, but you…” He shook his head, sinking down against the wall. Kian sat too, dropping to the hard boards.

“I’ll never do what he did.” Kian murmured. “I love you.”

“That’s what he said.” Mark replied weakly. “Don’t you get it, Ki? People fall out of love all the time. Some hot guy will come along, and you’ll decide he’s less useless than me and…”

“You are not useless. Don’t even think that for a second.”

“I won’t even have sex with you. I know that’s what you want, Kian. I’m not fucking stupid. I’m useless, I get that. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“Mark… that’s not what I want from you.” Mark snorted, looking away. “I don’t. Okay? It’s one of the things I’d love to share with you, but if you’re not ready then… I’m really okay with that. Really.” He crawled forward until he could lean against the wall next to Mark, their knees brushing. “You’re beautiful, and you’re sexy, but that isn’t why I love you. Hell, if you were in a wheelchair and could only move to talk, I’d still be totally in love with you.”

Mark shook his head. “But I’m not in a wheelchair. I’m just a stubborn, frightened git.”

“Why are you frightened?” Kian said, his hand brushing hesitantly at Mark’s. When Mark didn’t move away, he took it, lacing his fingers through Mark’s.

“Because. Fuck Ki, I’d never even kissed anyone that wasn’t… him. I’m useless…”

“You don’t think that matters to me?” Kian said. “I love you. It could be the worst sex in the world and it’d still be like fireworks.” He nudged Mark playfully. “But somehow I don’t think it’d be all that bad, you dark horse, you."

Mark smirked weakly, nudging him back, then silence settled for a while, Kian stroking Mark’s hand. Mark looked lost in thought, his eyes far away. Kian marvelled that one person could look so lost, wanting to cry at the fact that that one person had to be the man he loved so much.

“Maybe…” Mark said finally, his voice startling Kian out of dim thoughts. “…I don’t want it to be over.”

“What to be over?”

Mark shrugged. “If you and I… if we… then that’s it, isn’t it?” He swallowed. “God, I feel awful for saying this, but there are some days I wish he’d walk straight through the door, kiss me, and say ‘hey, let’s give it another go’. And I’d forgive him. I’d try…”

“And if you and I… if we get together properly…” Kian continued, picking up the thread Mark’s mind had spun. “…then that makes it final. You two are over.”

“Something like that.” Mark nodded. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” Kian said.

“And he won’t want me back. If I sleep with you, I’ll have cheated on him.” Mark let go of Kian’s hand, wrapping his arms around his knees to pull himself into a ball. “I don’t want to do that to him.”

“What, you mean like what he did to you?” Kian raised an eyebrow. “Mark, he fucked half the country! I’m sure if you slept with me, it wouldn’t make a fucking difference to him!”

“You don’t know him.” Mark whispered.

“And you do?”

“Yes!” Mark exclaimed. But his eyes couldn’t quite meet Kian’s, and they slid away further when Kian tried to look into them. “No.” Mark whispered. “I don’t know.”

“Marky…” Kian draped his arm around Mark’s shoulder, feeling him stiffen. He didn’t remove it. “I don’t want to push you. I’m not going to sleep with you until you’re ready for that. But… I don’t know if you’re ready for this. If we should be together until you’re over him. It’s not fair on you, if you feel pressured…”

“You mean, it’s not fair on you?” Mark spat.

“No, I mean it’s not fair on you.” Kian said as calmly as he could. Mark was frustrated and didn’t mean to lash out, he knew that. But god, if he didn’t want to just shake him and tell him to get over that fucker. “I think you need to make a choice, mate.” He let go and stood up. “If you want me now, you do. But if you need time, I’ll still be here when you want me. Don’t think I won’t. But don’t torture yourself more.” Mark looked up at him, and Kian fancied he could see gratitude there.

“Let me know whenever, okay?” He said, leaning down to kiss Mark’s forehead. “I’ll give you some time…” He kissed Mark’s hair, and hugged him gently. “I love you.”

“I know.” Mark said softly. “I love you too. But I don’t know yet.”

“That’s okay.” Kian replied, hesitantly making his way to the door. “I’m always here for you, if you need me? Day or night, whatever. Just knock or ring. Okay?”

Mark nodded, but was silent otherwise so, assuming that was all he was going to get tonight, Kian made his way back to his own room, tears running down his cheeks.


	14. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark was his friend, and Kian pretended not to be in love with him.

Months went by. Summer turned into autumn, and autumn became winter. They released the album. It did okay, but not as good as they would have liked. They told the same stories hundreds of times to promote it, and got sick of seeing their own faces on TV. They started planning the tour, getting it all ready.

Neither of them mentioned what had happened.

Sure, they talked, they hung out, but it was perfunctory. They talked about the weather, they went out with everyone else. David sent a note saying that he’d moved out and Mark could sell the house if he liked. Mark cried for a long time, and Kian held him, not sure what to say to make anything better. He helped Mark finalise the sale on the house – Mark said he couldn’t live there, it was too hard, and he bought another place in the north of Sligo, about twenty minutes away from his parents’ house. Kian helped him decorate. He painted Mark’s nose blue when he wasn’t expecting it, and they had a paint fight in the middle of the house, giggling and shrieking like girls at a slumber party.

They watched movies, and made fun of the worst ones. They hung out when Nicky and Shane were busy with their wives. Kian flirted with a couple of guys at a bar one night when he was particularly miserable, but ended up in his hotel room crying and drinking, so didn’t bother doing that again. Mark popped around to Kian’s London apartment a couple of times when they were in town, and they played scrabble and drank chocolate milk with kahlua, which turned into a weekly ritual even when they were in hotels in other countries. Kian went over to Mark’s two days after Christmas and they exchanged gifts, and had a snow fight in the backyard.

Everything seemed to go back to normal. Mark was his friend, and Kian pretended not to be in love with him.

 

*

 

It was bloody freezing cold, and Kian wrapped his coat around himself, shivering. Middle of fucking winter, and Kian was almost begging for snow, just so there could be something fun about freezing his balls off in front of the pub. He shivered again, tugging his coat tighter.

“It’s fucking cold!” Nicky cried drunkenly, staggering out to stand next to Kian and draping himself over Kian’s shoulder. “Kian! It’s cold!”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Kian deadpanned, starting when Shane lurched out of the pub after Nicky and knocked straight into them, grabbing Nicky on the way down so both of them fell into a confused heap. Kian laughed.

“I’ve fallen over!” Shane announced, and Nicky sniggered.

“You’re so drunk, Shay.” He said affectionately. But when they tried to right themselves they ended up getting into a worse muddle than before.

“Are they embarrassing the good name of Westlife?” Mark said, appearing behind Kian’s shoulder, an amused smirk on his face as he took in their two friends. “Should I take photos?”

Kian laughed. “They’ll look great on Christmas cards.” He reached out, grabbing someone’s hand – he wasn’t sure whose, the two lads had turned into a single drunken octopus. A giggling one at that. Then Nicky was standing in front of him, and Shane was staggering to his feet, leaning against Mark for support.

“It’s fucking cold.” Nicky reminded them. “Cold, bold, old, sold…”

“That’s nice.” Mark chuckled, his arm coming around Shane’s shoulder to guide the smaller man to the taxi that had just pulled up. “Get in, lad.”

“I’m older than you!” Shane protested. “I’m in charge!”

“And I’m older than you!” Nicky said. “I’m in charger!”

“Get in.” Kian shoved his charge, pushing him over to the middle of the taxi and sliding in after him. Mark had just gotten Shane into the front seat, and the back door opened while he slid in, a sudden blast of freezing air filling the car.

“Shut up, Nicky.” Mark muttered while Kian tried to give directions to the driver, Nicky having started a sing-along all by himself. Strangely enough, he was more in tune when he was drunk.

Luckily, Nicky fell asleep somewhere between Piccadilly and Knightsbridge, and Shane was too out of it to be making much noise.

“You want to hang a right here.” Kian instructed, settling back in his seat. But when he turned to check on Nicky, Mark was smiling at him. “Hey.” Kian said, waving slightly.

“Hey.” Mark replied, and then withdrew into himself again, looking thoughtful. Kian shrugged, turning back to his window, wondering what was going on. Mark had been quiet all night, and more than once Kian had sensed eyes on the back of his neck and turned to catch Mark staring at him, though the younger man always turned away with a blush.

“I want to go home.” Shane announced suddenly. “Gillian said we could celebrate tonight, which I think means she’ll let me stick my…”

“Shane! Stop right there!” Mark interrupted. “And shut up.” Kian heard the driver snigger, and smiled to himself.

By the time they reached the hotel, Kian had somehow ended up on Shane-detail, which was even more fun when he was trying to pay the driver. Luckily Gillian and Georgina were still at the hotel bar and were much less drunk than their husbands. Kian offloaded Shane happily, doubled up in laughter at the look on Gillian’s face when Shane finished the sentence Mark had interrupted in the cab.

“Well… that was an interesting night.” Kian said, watching the two couples make their way towards the lifts, Nicky too drunk to even throw a fit when he was pushed in.

“It was indeed.” Mark laughed. “Poor Gill, I hate to think what Shane’s gonna do when they get upstairs.”

“Probably fall asleep in the doorway.” Kian snorted, then glanced at his watch. “You have plans?”

Mark glanced at his own. “It’s still early, so no. You?”

“No.” He looked up, catching that strange, piercing stare Mark had been treating him too all night, and shivered. “Kahlua?”

“Sounds good.” Mark nodded. “I mean… I’d love to.”

Kian realised suddenly what it was that was different, when Mark’s hand brushed his totally unnecessarily as they were making their way to the lift. He hadn’t even noticed, he was so used to the dancing around each other and the strange looks… he’d not noticed exactly how this was different, though he’d felt that it was.

Mark was flirting with him.

 

*

 

Kian poked his head out of the kitchen. “Now, are we having Kahlua tonight or are we breaking the trend?”

Mark looked up from where he was setting up the scrabble, laid on his stomach on the floor. “Can’t beat a classic.” He smiled a little wider than he usually did. “Anyway, it’s probably the only form of alcohol I haven’t had tonight already. Might as well."

“Coming right up.” Kian went back into the kitchen, picking up the already-made Kahlua and milk, carrying them back out. He put them on floor and lay down, picking his own up again. “Cheers."

“Cheers.” Mark replied, clinking his against Kian’s. “You can go first, if you like. I’ve got nothing.”

Kian nodded, looking over his letters.

“Did you have a good night?”

“I did.” Kian selected four letters and placed them down on the board. “Twenty-two points.” He glanced up at Mark, watching him write the score down. “Did you?”

“Yeah. Really good.” Mark was still looking down at his letters, but he glanced up at Kian from under thick lashes while he spoke. Kian smiled in amusement. Mark was pulling out all the stops tonight. He wondered what had gotten into him tonight, and decided to let it go on, not sure whether Mark wanted what he was inviting or was just testing something. “Except for Shane and Nicky, of course.”

“God, they were so drunk.” Kian shook his head in remembered disbelief.

“Yeah. I could’ve done without the two of them tonight.” Mark pursed his lips, picking up five letters and putting them down.

“But then there would have been only the two of us.”

“I know.” Colour rose to Mark’s cheeks, flushing them pink. “I mean… well… I wouldn’t have had a problem with that. It would have been just as… I mean… more than nice.”

Mark seemed reluctant to say anything incriminating after that, as though he felt he’d over-stepped the line and was back-pedalling. Kian thought it was adorable, but though he tried to lead Mark into more innuendo-laden conversation, the younger man didn’t seem to be biting. So Kian left it, turning back to much safer topics.

After Mark had given Kian quite the drubbing at scrabble and they’d giggled at the loud singing they could hear from Shane’s room, Kian went back into the kitchen to clear up the glasses while Mark put the scrabble away. He was just drying them off when he heard a noise behind him and started, spinning around to see Mark stood in the doorway looking at him.

“Hiya.”

“Hiya.” Kian smiled. “You after something?”

“Erm… drink of water’d be nice?”

Kian turned back, filling one of the glasses with water and turning to hand it to Mark, who accepted it with a grateful nod, gulping most of it in one go.

“Scrabble make you parched, did it?”

“Absolutely. Strenuous exercise, scrabble.” Mark grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “All those letters – totally exhausting.”

“Could even say it’s the most exhausting game in the world.”

“No… there’s fun things that are a lot more exhausting.” Mark bit his lip, blushing again, and Kian held back a giggle. “Well, I’d best be going back to my room then. It’s late.”

“It’s not that late, if you want to stay.”

“No. I…” Mark shook his head. “I really think I should. If I stay here much longer I might…” He looked away, already turning before he could finish the sentence. Kian followed him to the door.

“Well. Goodnight, then.”

“And you.” Mark was warm and soft when Kian pulled him into a hug. “Sleep well.”

“Sleep well.” Kian echoed, feeling arms encircle his waist. “And just so you know… I love you.”

Mark nodded, his chin brushing Kian’s shoulder. “I know. I love you too.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

“Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Mark chuckled. “Love you, Ki.” He pulled away, hesitantly, as though he didn’t want to leave. Kian knew how that felt. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“In the morning.” Kian reaffirmed. “Goodnight.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Mark pushed down on the doorhandle, backing his way through it. “Goodnight.”

Kian grinned, shoving him back gently with both hands. “Goodnight, mate.”


	15. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was over. He knew it.

Everything seemed to be going okay, really. Fantastically okay. But it was that same old story, wasn’t it? As soon as everything seemed to be going well, one thing just had to mess it all up.

They were happy. Mark was getting over David, and seemed to be showing more than a little interest in Kian. All the signs were there. Mark didn’t say anything, and neither did Kian, but every day the flirting got a little more earnest and the touches and looks were a little longer and tenderer. It was perfect. It was going to be perfect.

It was on a day off that it happened, just a few days after the first show of the tour. Mark was having one of his increasingly rare bad days anyway, was moping about looking confused and miserable. Kian tried to comfort him, really he did, but had the distinct feeling that he was more the problem than anyone. Just that morning he’d caught Mark staring at a photo of the three of them together – Mark, David, and Kian – tears brimming in his beautiful blue eyes. All three of them were drunk, but no-one more than Mark, who was grinning stupidly, hung between Kian and David like a rag-doll.

Kian had tried to talk to him, give him at least a hug, but Mark had been totally unresponsive. So Kian had just sat, trying to be there even though he was sure he wasn’t doing much good, despite the occasional weak smile he was given.

They were hanging out, alone, in Mark’s room (as they had been doing more and more lately) when it happened. Mark was silently watching TV, his head in Kian’s lap. Kian was running his fingers through Mark’s hair over and over, feeling the younger man relax under his touch. He really was utterly beautiful, Kian reflected, his hand slipping through the silken strands and hearing Mark make occasional pleased sighs.

“I love you.” Kian whispered, reminding him, and Mark had just opened his mouth to reply when the knock came at the door.

“Nooo…” Mark muttered, closing his eyes and thumping a fist into the mattress. “That was just getting really nice. You were making me all happy again”

“Be quick and we can go back to it.” Kian chuckled, raking his fingers against Mark’s scalp one more time and smiling affectionately when the bigger boy shuddered happily. Kian pushed him lightly. “Off you go.”

“Why me?” Mark grumbled, and Kian punched him lightly.

“Because it’s your room.”

Another knock came at the door, and Mark heaved himself up with a long-suffering sigh.

“You’ll pay.”

“Uh huh. I’m so scared.” Kian teased. Mark rolled his eyes, pulling open the door.

There was silence. Kian pulled a confused face, lifting his head when the silence continued. Mark was stood in the doorway, stock-still, his whole body tensed.

“Mark? What are you doing?” Kian sat up, craning his neck to see past Mark. Then he too was silent, shocked into speechlessness.

David.

“Hi Mark.” David said softly, his voice strange to Kian’s ears after having not heard it in so long. For a moment all his brain could conjure up was the image of David scrabbling with his jeans, the panicked, protesting voice when Kian pushed his way into the house. Then it was gone, and all he could hear was apology and anxiety, and his own blood thudding in his ears.

“What… are you doing here?” Mark said finally, each word coming out slowly, as though his vocal cords were brittle and raw.

“I…” David shook his head, then his eyes widened as he caught sight of Kian, laid out on the bed. Kian took stock of his situation, realising how it must look. Hell, how it _should_ look. It was almost exactly what David was probably thinking. Except less graphic. “Oh… I didn’t realise. I’m sorry.”

Mark looked around, his eyes widening as he took in Kian. He spun back to face David. “It isn’t what you think! We were just…”

Oh. Just. Right. Kian had forgotten. They were ‘just’. He looked David up and down. He was a little slimmer, his clothes less tailored (probably without his sugar-daddy to buy everything for him, Kian thought bitterly), his hair shorter and shaved close to his head. He had bags under his eyes.

“Oh.” David said awkwardly. “Okay.”

“Why are you here?”

“I… I dunno. Heard you were in town so I thought…” He shook his head suddenly, frantically. “That’s a lie. I knew you were in town. I’ve been… well, I’ve been following you. Not… not like that!” He exclaimed, disputing exactly what Kian had been thinking. “Not like I’ve been stalking you, I just… I’ve been keeping an eye out. You know. On where the tour is. I… I bought the album… it was really good. I thought you sounded fantastic and…” He swallowed, trailing off. “I wanted to talk. Maybe… if you’re interested. Please.”

“If I’m interested?” Mark croaked a hollow laugh. “I… Jesus, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.”

“’Yes’ might be nice.” David said hopefully. “I’ve got a room. In the hotel, I mean. I found out you were staying here, the messageboards…” He swallowed. “I’ve been here three days, I just couldn’t get up the guts to…”

“Oh.” Mark said. “I thought I saw you once, this morning in the lobby. I thought I was hallucinating.”

“You did?” Kian interrupted, Mark’s confused, melancholy mood suddenly making sense.

“I didn’t think you’d seen me.” David admitted. “I… I thought about coming over but when it came to it…”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded.

“I want to talk now. If you want to. I…” He swallowed. “Please. I’m fucking dead without you. I did a stupid, idiotic thing and I don’t know how to make it up to you but I’ll do everything in my power to…”

“I don’t think you can.” Mark sighed. “I don’t think I can trust you.”

“I’m not surprised.” David replied. “But would you please just talk to me? Please?”

“David… this isn’t fair…” Mark sounded very close to tears, but then he hesitated. “Where did you want to go?”

“Mark?” Kian squeaked, having been shocked into speechlessness all this time, but reclaiming his voice now the situation was slipping away from him. Mark couldn’t seriously be thinking about this? Not after everything? Without even a thought for Kian? He felt panic rise in his throat and everything begin to slip from his grasp. They couldn’t… Mark couldn’t…

Mark glanced over his shoulder.

“We’re just gonna go talk for a bit.” He said, looking dazed. “Um. We need to talk.”

With that, Mark walked out and shut the door behind him.

 

*

 

Kian was laid on his bed, tears running softly down his cheeks. The hysterical emotional outburst had come before, and now there was just him, curled up under the blankets, crying wretched tears of grief.

It was over. He knew it. There had never been a chance for him while David was in the picture, and there was no chance now he was back. No matter what Mark said about not trusting him, there was so much love still there, for David. Mark had always said, hadn’t he, that he’d have a hard time saying no if David walked back into his life and begged him to come back? Well, here they were, at the crossroads, and Mark had barely spared a second in deciding which direction he would go.

Out the door. With David. Leaving Kian behind.

He rolled over, pressing his face into the pillow and releasing a harsh sob, the wet spot spreading against his cheek. He rolled onto his side again, and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

“I love you.” He choked out. “I love you. This isn’t fair…”

He did love Mark, that much was the truth, and shouldn’t that mean that Mark’s happiness should come above his own? He’d always said it would, and it was that more than anything that had stopped him, in that blind fit of anguished rage, from stomping downstairs and cutting David’s filthy head off.

He loved Mark. Mark was the most important person in the world, no matter what.

And so, here he was, crying in his bed, three and a half hours after Mark had walked from the room. Probably from his life. He hadn’t heard the lift ding open, hadn’t heard steps in the hall. He’d been listening earnestly the whole time, even while wracked with vicious sobs. Wanting to know. Would Mark come back alone, or with… him?

Or were they downstairs right now, in David’s room? Where they fucking? Was David fucking Mark?

Even worse: were they making love? Was Mark that blissfully happy, making love with his beautiful, perfect boyfriend?

Kian sobbed, burying his head in the pillow, not wanting to close his eyes and see Mark and David, happy, burned into his eyelids

 

*

 

“Kian?”

He stirred from a restless sleep, groaning softly at the headache that had inexplicably decided to set in. Maybe this was what heartbreak felt like. A headache and a sore back from sleeping wrong.

“What?” He mumbled, rolling over in bed and squinting up into the dark room, unable to see anything but a silhouette stood over him. Had he been awake, he would have been startled, but he was too bloody asleep to be worried about anything. Anyway, he didn’t particularly want to be awake. It was too painful.

“Hey.” That voice whispered again, the dark shadow at the side of his bed shifting, a hand reaching down and pulling the blankets back.

“Mark?” Kian croaked sleepily, recognising that heat against his side, Mark’s scent when the younger man cuddled up to him, his arm draped over Kian’s chest. “What you doing here?”

“David left.” Mark whispered, and Kian finally noticed that his voice was full of tears.

“Oh.” Kian sighed in confusion. “When’s he coming back?”

“He isn’t.” Mark replied. “We talked and… it just wasn’t going to work. It sounds fucking cliché but we’ve drifted apart. He needed me, but… but I don’t think he needed me as much as he needed someone. Anyone. It wasn’t about me, there was nothing there to hold us together. And I realised something.”

“What?” Kian asked, his heart hammering against his ribs now that he’d woken up enough to understand what Mark was saying.

“I realised…” Mark rubbed his face into Kian’s shoulder, a move the blonde had come to recognise as shyness. “I realised it wasn’t him I wanted. I didn’t feel anything for him anymore. The memories were wonderful, and I loved him so much it kills me sometimes to think I won’t have that anymore, but…” Mark looked up, his eyes faintly bright in the moonlight. “…but maybe I don’t need it from him. Maybe…” He swallowed.

“Yes?” Kian forced out, needing to know the end of that sentence, the tension too hard to stand.

“Maybe I want it from you.” Mark whispered. “If you’ll have me?”

Kian couldn’t think of what to say. It felt like something inside him had exploded in a shower of fireworks. He couldn’t think or breathe or move. The only thing was Mark’s expectant, timid eyes on him, boring into him, begging for an answer.

Kian swallowed.

“Yes. Of course yes!”

“Really?”

“God yes! Mark!” The grin flashed onto Kian’s face faster than lightning. Mark grinned back, and Kian laughed as arms wrapped excitedly around his neck, tugging him into a hard, messy kiss.

“I love you.” Mark gasped, pulling him in for kiss after kiss until they were breathing hard, their legs tangled together and arms wrapped tightly around each other, afraid to let go. “I love you, I love you…”

“I love you too…” Kian breathed, rolling over and pushing down into Mark, kissing him hard in a relieved, excited clashing of mouths and tongues. “I love you so much.”

Mark grinned, pushing up into Kian, and Kian gasped as their groins clashed, hard and expectant.

“I love you.” Mark whispered, and Kian smiled, ducking his head for another deep kiss, their hips beginning to move together in a beautiful, lazy rhythm.

Mark laughed, and Kian grinned, the hard barbed wire around his heart uncoiling for the first time it what seemed an eternity.

And finally, nothing else mattered except for him and Mark. There would be other problems, Kian knew that, not everything could be resolved that easily. There would be late nights, and there would be crying, and there would be fighting…

But right now, in this very moment, none of that mattered.


End file.
